Beds, Brothels and Beer

[Erin O'Shea]

"I know you, but I don't... I feel I should trust you but... but I can't understand why... They say I shouldn't trust you but I want to disagree and I don't know why! I don't understand!"
With every word her friend said, Erin grew sadder. It was so painful, to see such a close friend in such a state. She wasn't even a shell of her former self. She was someone so completely detached from the norms of society, someone who had no idea of who she was anymore, and this filled Erin's heart with grief. She wanted to help Henrietta, in any way she could, and try and get her to remember who she was. "Don't let them upset you, Henri. You want to disagree because I think part of you remembers me, remembers how close we were, but because you can't really remember it, that's why you don't understand. But don't think on it now, if it's going to distress you."

Erin watched as her friend backed herself into the corner while the servant came in and set the food down. She slowly made her way towards the dresser, and sat down. Erin waited for Henrietta to make a move towards the food, but noticed that she kept stopping herself. "Henri...it's okay. You can eat it. I asked them to bring it up for you. It's for you." Erin thought if she spoke softly to her friend, it would somehow make her feel more trusting towards her. "Please, eat. I'm sure it's been a while since you had something hot to eat."

  

[Henrietta Simmitt]

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò ò *

Henrietta listened with a somewhat doubtful expression on her face, eyes shining though not with the brightness of being fully 'there', rather shining with tears of distress, confusion and conflict. She emitted a small whimper and wrapped her arms around her shoulders as though cold, though she only did it for comfort. Everything was happening so fast, so quickly; it was surreal. While her life usually was spent curled up on some street corner, her growling stomach and filthy ragged clothing the only comfort as she sat back and felt her life pass by as each day melded into the next. Nothing ever happened that was worth committing to memory but now... Now something was happening but what exactly that something was, she couldn't quite grasp.

The use of her nickname felt strangely normal to the woman, feeling oddly comforted by it. Her eyes darted quickly between the bowl of soup and the strange woman whose face seemed familiar, safe even but... why? She couldn't understand why. Did she wish something in return? Was it some trap? It didn't help her head was feeding her all sorts of nonsense. After a particularly irritable growl from her stomach, she conceded to give in to the food, edging slowly closer to the bowl. She reached out and was about to grab the spoon, and then froze. She remembered spoons. Spoons were familiar but how did one use such an instrument? On the street food had been solid and easy to eat with one's bare hands and teeth and so this strange liquid which smelt rather tasty was quite difficult to fathom. Determined to at least stave off some of the hunger, she instead reached for the bread and snatched it, holding it defensively close as though afraid it would be prized away from her. Then she slowly raised it to her mouth and began eating it. Hunger took over and she quickly demolished it completely. "I like bread," she stated plainly, eying the soup with cautious anticipation. She reached out once again and held the spoon awkwardly, her hand trembling quite noticeably. Henri glanced to Erin and gave her a frightened look, "H-h-h-how...?"

TAGErin ò WORDS360 ò OUTFITHere

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