CHAPTER SEVEN-1346 AVELINA

When father walks through the door it's like time itself stops as I take him in. He looks old, older than I last saw him even though it wasn't too long ago. His face is weary, he's no doubt tired and maybe a little bit tipsy but not so much that he's unable to stay on his feet. He looks older than he is, he's 48 and he looks 60. It's sad, really, this is my father we're talking about yet there's something different in the way he walks, talks, looks. He looks strong yet weak. Emotionally weak, physically strong. His brown hair is messy like he hasn't washed in years. He doesn't smell pleasant either. Like all the other becchani he has a death smell lingering on him. It's hard to explain but I guess being around so many dead bodies does that to you. His clothes are dirty but it doesn't look like he minds. There's a sad expression behind his smile, seeing so much death most likely takes a toll on you. But still, he's the same father I'd said goodbye to when he started his new "duty," the same strong man, but he's different as well, death changes people, it sure has changed me.

"Where is she?" We don't have to ask who he means, we all know he's come to see Ida, after all soon we won't be able to see her again.

"This way." Premivere directs him to where Ida lies on the floor, looking worse than when I last saw her, and that was only a short while ago.

Before father heads over to see her he murmurs to me,

"where's your mother?"

"She's in her room, where we've been sleeping. She's been, well, emotionally unwell." He nods and continues on, no oh no my poor wife, or is she okay. Nothing. It angers me but I don't say anything about it. I'm not going to disrespect the man keeping me alive, and that's just how it is.

"Avelina?"

"Yes father?" What now.

"Go and check on your mother."

"Yes father." I turn around to leave when he calls back to me.

"Get her here." With a quick nod I head off to get mother. When I say she was in her room I actually meant the barn. The barn is where we're sleeping at the moment since Ida is in the living quarters. I don't mind so much after all I'd rather be in there than with a sick person. I slowly walk in instantly hearing sobs. Great big sobs too not little ones. Howling even.

"Mother?" I try to sound as gentle as possible.

"Mother?"

"A-A-Avelina." Oh mother. She's never looked worse. Tear stains on her usually flawless, pale skin. Her dress is ripped, covered in tears. Her hairs a mess, most likely unwashed, her usually Hazel eyes have grown dark. She was never huge but she wasn't incredibly tiny, she is now. 

"Mother. Come on let's get you cleaned up."

"G-go away Ave-Avelina."

"No. I'm not going away. Father is back and Idas dying. Okay?! She is and we all want to stay here and cry all day but we can't." My eyes soften a bit,

"we need you Mum. Denise, Nigel, Primeveire, me, and right now Ida needs you too. Do you really want to know you didn't say goodbye or help her before she died?"

"N-no, of course not." She says an almost stern tone to her voice. But then she speaks again that miserable tone she has comes back out.

"You don't kn-know what it's l-like to lose a ch-child!" 

She bursts into tears again clutching her stomach in pain. It pains me to see her like this, so weak and helpless. But she should understand that I do know what it's like, I may not be losing a child but I'm losing a sister and that's just as bad. But how can I calm her down enough to get her out of here? I know if she doesn't go she'll regret it every day of the rest of her life. Looking at her right now, a 37 year old looking so much older it makes it hard to realise what to do. Great, she's crying louder. 

"Mother?" She continues crying as if I'm not even present in the room, as if it's her alone with this misery prodding at her very soul. I feel like my presence is not helping the situation but I need to get her to see Ida, before it's too late. She's my mother after all, and yet she's not acting like it. Wait I know! I know how I can finally get her up on her feet. If she wants to act like a child, fine but I'm going to act like her mother and a mother wouldn't tolerate this.

"Get up." I speak as sternly as I can but as I do I doubt my efforts, maybe this won't work. I don't want to get in trouble for acting older than her and telling her what to do, but I have no choice so I continue.

"What you're doing is not ok. Stop feeling sorry for yourself because that's not how you're going to get anything done. What good is crying? It's not like it's fixing anything. Idas still dying, she's not getting better. Yet here you are feeling sorry for yourself and you're not even bothering to be with her, she should be the one feeling sorry for herself. After all she's the one dying, not you. You're not even with her, don't you care?" I cringe at that last part. My voice is stern but came out more harshly at the end. But apparently it worked because she stares up at me looking guilty and fierce. She likes like my mother again. 

"Of course I care! She's my daughter!"

"Well then, come with me. We'll get you presentable to father and then you can see Ida." She looks at me, so much pain in her voice, her movements, her eyes. But she's determined to try and get up and thats all I'm asking of her, to try. 

"All right, you're right." She slowly gets up almost falling over but with my arm I guide her onto her feet and take her outside to our private bath, these are very rare but father was able to get us one. She cleans herself up and before no time she's presentable in a lovely green dress, and a hose. We walk inside and I see her bite her lip as she sees Ida. Ida on the other hand lightens up when she sees mother.

"Remember," I mumble quietly so no one but mother hears, "make her feel good, it may be one of the last times you can." I give her hand a light squeeze, hand her a mask so she doesn't catch the plague, at least hopefully she doesn't, and I stand-off to the side. Primeveire walks over and stands beside me. 

"You actually did it. Well done, sweetheart." I grin widely.

"I told you I could." She smiles too, but just as quickly as she smiled she frowns.

My smile drops too.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Everything. I mean look around us, we're in this thing whether we like it or not and we're losing one of the most important people in our life. Our whole lives we've been preparing for marriage and children. Being with someone so we can start a life with them. But what good does that do us now? We aren't even married. I don't want to die without a strong, confident, kind and caring man by my side." A sad expression covers her face.

"You won't." I try to say as confident as possible, but the doubt I have still comes into my voice and she obviously notices.

"See." She says.

"You don't even completely believe that yourself." Before I can open my mouth to argue with her, she puts her hand up to silence me and continues.

"This whole thing has been a nightmare, a terrible, horrible nightmare, and we're not getting out of this soon. I'm scared." She looks at me and I know she's not lying. She really is scared, my older sister. The girl I've looked up to my whole life like a second mother is telling me she's scared, and she's looking at me with fear. She needs someone to tell her it'll be okay, even then be able to at least tell her you'll be able to get out of the situation. She may be older than me, wiser, more confident, stronger but right now she's just as fragile and scared as me, and she needs me to be strong and confident for her too. She may be older but we have to support each other. I don't need to say more than a sentence. I just need to let her know that she's not alone and we will be okay, at least I hope we will be.

"It'll be okay, we'll get through this like every obstacle we have, together." I give her hand a squeeze, she squeezes it back as we both watch in silence as mother, father, and Ida talk and laugh about memories I can't even remember now.