Categories > Books > Harry Potter
She Collects Her Children
2 reviewsMolly and her children - part of a drabble challenge where you used the first line of a fic. I used from Memento: "She collects her children." [http://shadafakup.livejournal.com/16783.html]
1Moving
She collects her children, holding them close to her, unwilling to let them go even when she knows she will.
The eldest, the one who will always be special because he is the first (but she tells them differently), is the first to go. She bites her inner cheeks and lets her tears fall, because it is the only thing she allows herself to do. To do otherwise would be unfair.
Her second, as different from the first as they are they same, both from her body but two seperate beings. He leaves shortly after the first, his choice of life making the first grey hair appear in her head. There is nothing else she can do, it is what she had taught them. To live for themselves.
She always knew that this one will break her heart, and that he will be the one who tears away. She understands him, even if he thinks she doesn't. But still her heart aches, as a mother's is wont to do when she sees her child walk down a path that leads far away from her, into a place so dark she's afraid he will never see light again.
Two of them at a go, as luck would have it. Twice the fun, twice the noise, twice the headache as she worries about their futures. She can't tell them apart, but she doesn't see a need to. She wants them to do the best for themselves and knows she unfairly compares them to the older ones.
The baby of the family, though he will most certainly scowl if he knows how she thinks of him. She worries most about him now, there are more worries placed on those shoulders than she thinks he can handle. So she nags, and makes sure that he does his homework, to remind him that he is in school and that he is still young. This is the only time she knows that she can tell him this.
The last one, special in ways to her that her brothers are not, even if they are all special to her. She sees the most of herself in the youngest, before family and adult matters made her hands rough and wrinkles appear. The bravest, if only to prove her worth because she is a girl, and the most clear thinking one. She will find a way to survive and grow into herself, as she does amongst her brothers.
Molly collects her children, in her mind and in her thoughts, the frames collect dust on the mantlepiece, the subjects in them never moving, and the flowers grow around the graves of the sacrifices her family made.
The eldest, the one who will always be special because he is the first (but she tells them differently), is the first to go. She bites her inner cheeks and lets her tears fall, because it is the only thing she allows herself to do. To do otherwise would be unfair.
Her second, as different from the first as they are they same, both from her body but two seperate beings. He leaves shortly after the first, his choice of life making the first grey hair appear in her head. There is nothing else she can do, it is what she had taught them. To live for themselves.
She always knew that this one will break her heart, and that he will be the one who tears away. She understands him, even if he thinks she doesn't. But still her heart aches, as a mother's is wont to do when she sees her child walk down a path that leads far away from her, into a place so dark she's afraid he will never see light again.
Two of them at a go, as luck would have it. Twice the fun, twice the noise, twice the headache as she worries about their futures. She can't tell them apart, but she doesn't see a need to. She wants them to do the best for themselves and knows she unfairly compares them to the older ones.
The baby of the family, though he will most certainly scowl if he knows how she thinks of him. She worries most about him now, there are more worries placed on those shoulders than she thinks he can handle. So she nags, and makes sure that he does his homework, to remind him that he is in school and that he is still young. This is the only time she knows that she can tell him this.
The last one, special in ways to her that her brothers are not, even if they are all special to her. She sees the most of herself in the youngest, before family and adult matters made her hands rough and wrinkles appear. The bravest, if only to prove her worth because she is a girl, and the most clear thinking one. She will find a way to survive and grow into herself, as she does amongst her brothers.
Molly collects her children, in her mind and in her thoughts, the frames collect dust on the mantlepiece, the subjects in them never moving, and the flowers grow around the graves of the sacrifices her family made.
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