The Darkest Soul of Light

Part 1

Melancholy, emptiness, loneliness, how else she could describe the reality of living in an abandoned house, abandoned by her friends, by her God, even by the darkest spirits that haunted her at night and daylight. Nobody to love, nobody to lose and nothing to strive for. Vanessa was crawling from one day into the other without purpose, without a slightest idea why it was so painful not for the body. The body went through a lot of things and wasn't afraid of pain but her soul was aching and day after day the pain became more and more unbearable, more and more exhausting. She wanted to die, though, was afraid to commit a suicide. The little that still remained of her shattered soul was failing her.

Nevertheless, Vanessa made a titanic effort to get out of the bed. The delivery man from the nearest groceries started to cheat. One day she couldn't find a loaf of bread in the basket that was left near the back door, the other day a bottle of milk was gone. Sometimes vegetables and fruit were missing. The woman was sick of it, of every filthy shop keeper to cheat on her. So, now Vanessa wanted revenge.

She stealthily walked to the back door, took a deep breath and opened it as unexpectedly as she could, prepared to have a venomous argument with the deliverer. Instead, to her own surprise as Vanessa didn't realize she was able to do it in her state, she grabbed the hand of child and pulled the girl inside locking the door. The pull was so harsh that the poor girl dropped the bottle of milk on the threshold that immediately shattered into pieces. The scared girl tried to twist her own arm out of Vanessa's grip but the woman was holding her in such a way that it was even painful. The child pulled aside without any result as the woman was much stronger. That's why the girl didn't have any other idea than to bite woman's hand that made the latter unclasp her fingers. The girl cried in terror, pushed the woman and ran up the stairs followed by a very fast, furious and unpredictable predator. She managed to reach the top, unfortunately, felt the strong female fist on her ankle pulling her down. The child shrieked in horror.

"Please, don't eat me! Please, please, don't eat me!"

She tried to cover her head with tiny hands as Vanessa was mounting above her and suddenly started to chant in Latin.

"Domine Iesu, dimitte nobis debita nostra, salva nos ab igne inferiori, perduc in caelum omnes animas, praesertim eas, quae misericordiae tuae maxime indigent."

Being taken aback Vanessa stopped breathing heavily, looking in disbelief at the pale, scared to death girl. The child was crying whispering the holy psalms as if she saw an evil spirit.

"Hey, who do you think I am?" asked the woman still trying to control her breath.

"An evil spirit living in this house," mumbled the girl sitting on the step and wrapping her arms around knees to protect herself.

"What?!" Vanessa laughed. She laughed and laughed causing the child to fear her even more.

"Do I really look so awful that you took me for a ghost?" She finally asked after giving a good hearty laugh. "What's your name, child?"

"F-F-F-Florence," came a shy shaky reply.

"Vanessa Ives, an inhabitant of this house." Vanessa extended her hand for a shake. The girl gripped tighter her knees. "Hey, I don't eat children for breakfast. I prefer bread and cheese. Milk would also be quite good. Unfortunately, because of a little thief here, I won't have a pleasure to drink milk today." She said playfully looking at a totally shocked girl.

"I'm sorry," sobbed the little intruder.

"You've been stealing from me for two weeks already," the woman stated as a matter of fact, "come on, or somebody else will take our breakfast. The basket is still outside and I'm hungry." She again stretched her hand but the girl didn't take it, she stood up, though, suspiciously staring at a strange, tall, slim woman.

Vanessa opened the back door, grabbed the basket and came back into the room. The child followed her into the kitchen and stopped ready to run. The kitchen as the whole house was a sore sight, dust and dirt everywhere, cockroaches, centipedes and spiders running to and fro among dirty plates and cutlery. Long, tiny but visibly seen cobwebs were stretching from the ceiling to all the corners of the room. The woman in sweaty, filthy, dark underdress was standing in this mess. The woman that sent the poor child in a total stupor was offering to share a meal with her.

"Let's see, what do we have here? Some fresh vegetables, tinned meat, some cheese, bread and butter, the last but not the least a jar of jam!" Vanessa exclaimed putting food on the table. "What do you fancy?"

"I'd rather go, Ma'am." Florence replied clutching the skirt of her worn-out, short dress.

"No, you won't go anywhere until you keep me company," Vanessa made an invitating gesture. "What about some bread and cheese?"

"I'd rather eat it with jam if you don't mind," the girl shyly approached the dirty, dusty table.

"Not a fan of cheese I suppose," Vanessa pushed aside dirty dishes and sat at the table inviting the girl to do the same. "So, Florence, how old are you?" The woman enquired cutting bread with a sufficiently clean knife.

"Turned nine the previous month," said the girl licking some jam from the spoon Vanessa gave her.

"Mom and dad?"

"Mom died. Dad's gambling and drinking."

"It is regrettable to witness," the woman commented taking a bite of bread with butter. "How long have you been roaming the streets?"

"Since spring."

They ate in silence for a while.

"What happened here?" asked Florence referring to the mess.

"I happened here." Vanessa chuckled absorbing the surroundings.

"I can wash all the dishes if you give me that tinned meat in return," suggested Florence.

"Now I'm not so scary as before, am I?" The woman squint her eyes.

The child stopped short trying to understand what this strange woman wanted from her.

"Let's do it this way, I'll give you some money to buy milk and some other food and then I prepare a really good lunch."

"What makes you think that I won't disappear with your money?" the girl exchanged a question for a question.

"Will you?"

Again the room withdrew into silence.

"Nobody is going to sell me anything even if you give me the money," came a stubborn reply.

"At least give it a try."

While Florence was away, Vanessa washed herself in cold water. It made her shiver a bit at first, anyway, she combed her greasy hair and tied a kerchief around her head. The woman who has been full of apathy and misery for months, in an hour turned into not exactly the same but her usual state. She lit the stove, put some buckets of water on it, took out all the dirty dishes from the sink waiting for the child.

"What took you so long?" she opened the door and took the basket from the girl. It felt heavy in her hand.

"I haven't bought pastry. The shop keeper chased me away, said I'm a witch," Florence half stated half apologized.

"Then we won't buy from him anymore," Vanessa smiled at the confused girl.

"May I take my tinned meat, please?"

"I thought you said you would be eager to wash up that pile of dishes over there," the woman pointed at a huge amount of various China and cutlery.

"Yes, sure," she took off her poor coat, put it on the nearest chair and went to the sink.

"There is hot water in the bucket."

The kitchen slightly changed while Florence was away. A heavy shawl of cobwebs was gone, the table, window, shelves and the cupboard were clean. The floor was still dirty and sticky but the dust was swept away.

Vanessa started peeling vegetables for their stew taking a thorough examination of the girl from the place where she was sitting. Florence was a very thin, subtle child with rather long arms. Her stooped posture and birdy shoulders gave her even more miserable look. She had a quite attractive face with pale freckled cheeks, small plump lips, straight nose and dark brown eyes. The latter weren't as smoky magnetic as Vanessa's and even not half as big, but they streamed not really childish seriousness and were velvety charming with those long lashes. Girl's hair wasn't too long. It fell over her shoulders in a messy, brown mop of natural curls and wasn't as shiny as it used to be. Florence sometimes scratched her head that made Vanessa think that maybe this girl needs more than a bath, maybe it would be better to cut off those locks.

"Where did you learn Latin?" the woman asked continuing peeling vegetables.

"I read a lot," the girl answered shortly.

"Not many nine year olds speak Latin, not many can even read at this age. Did your father go bankrupt?"

"No, my mom worked as a servant in a big house. The owners had a lot of books and let me read them."

"But Latin and your manners? Did you study together with their children?" Girl's speech was far from the speech of any nine year old Vanessa could recall. It seemed that she was talking to a teenage not to child.

"My memory's strange. If I read something, I can cite it word for word. It doesn't matter which language or how hard the information is, I just remember it."

"That's amazing!"

"Maybe, yes, I suppose," Florence sighed brushing away some messy locks from the forehead.

"Would you like to be my servant? 10 shillings a week rather decent but fair as you can't do a lot, food and shelter included."

"It's a bad idea."

"Why so?"

"I can be extremely clumsy sometimes."

"I'll deduct all the damage from your payment," Vanessa came up with a quick answer.

"I don't think my payment will cover it," answered Florence putting a clean pan aside.

"So, it's a 'No'?"

"I didn't say that."

"Alright then, you'll be living upstairs. The room is not far from mine it is smaller but it has everything necessary. Your duty is to wash up, sweep the floors and tidy up the house. You'll also do the shopping and take clothes to the laundry. I'll do the cooking," Vanessa explained the duties.

"That's fair. Can I lock myself in the room from time to time or go away for a while?" The child turned to look at the woman.

"Why?"

"If I tell you, you won't give me the job."

"Try me."

Florence took a deep breath, stopped washing-up and stared at the floor.

"Epilepsy, I have seizures and can't control my body sometimes," she confessed.

"I know the notion of the word 'epilepsy'. You are hired Miss Florence. What is your surname by the way?"

"Florence Welch, Ma'am," the child dropped a clumsy curtsey.

"Welcome to this mansion, Miss Welch!"

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"The name is Vanessa Ives."

"I remember, Miss Ives."

The girl turned back to the sink full of dirty dishes and continued her work.

"Would you mind if I eat from metal plates and in my room?" the child asked looking suspiciously at the fine Chinese porcelain plate with the stew that Miss Ives has just cooked.

"We don't eat from metal tureens. You've already washed all of the china, nothing happened what are you afraid of?"

"I can't control the seizures. There are times when I know but mostly I don't. It's not a pleasant view to look at," the girl confessed.

"Don't worry, I have a vivid imagination and my word is "No". If you are going to live in this house, you have to obey some rules. I won't give you the key of your room, you won't lock yourself up in any other room, you won't go anywhere without my permission and you eat from the same plates I eat either porcelain, clay or silver, it doesn't matter. And you need a bath. If you don't agree, you may go." Vanessa concluded.

The girl kept silent. She took a spoon and began eating a delicious stew. Vanessa smiled and also took a spoon in her hand.

To be continued…