048. Sunlight carried into the windowless house. Rachel and Eileen
Rachel lives in the valley of shadows.
It has been her home for many years now, since the day her mother was taken from her in the worst way possible. Back then, it was just a one-room thing, no furnishings or anything remarkable to speak of. It grew, over the years. Gained more rooms (leaving the Clubs), some places to sit (being tormented by the Givenchies), an empty fireplace (Edgar and Ophelia's deaths), proper flooring (Andrew's), and other knick-knacks (Lindsey's). There's never any glass that isn't broken (the Magician's attack) and there are no windows to let in the light of the sun.
And so, Rachel lives in an empty house engulfed in darkness, alone in the valley of shadows.
Except.
Except there is her little one, who somehow always manages to slip her way past the door, find her way to the cracks in the walls and roof and widen them a little more. And when that fails to brighten the house to a point that pleases her, she leaves and returns with a jar of sunbeams that she opens in the middle of the darkness.
And it burns, so bright with love and hope that the house crumbles around them and the valley is suddenly a meadow and the shadows are suddenly beautiful, blessed light.
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Rachel lives in the valley of shadows.
It has been her home for many years now, since the day her mother was taken from her in the worst way possible. Back then, it was just a one-room thing, no furnishings or anything remarkable to speak of. It grew, over the years. Gained more rooms (leaving the Clubs), some places to sit (being tormented by the Givenchies), an empty fireplace (Edgar and Ophelia's deaths), proper flooring (Andrew's), and other knick-knacks (Lindsey's). There's never any glass that isn't broken (the Magician's attack) and there are no windows to let in the light of the sun.
And so, Rachel lives in an empty house engulfed in darkness, alone in the valley of shadows.
Except.
Except there is her little one, who somehow always manages to slip her way past the door, find her way to the cracks in the walls and roof and widen them a little more. And when that fails to brighten the house to a point that pleases her, she leaves and returns with a jar of sunbeams that she opens in the middle of the darkness.
And it burns, so bright with love and hope that the house crumbles around them and the valley is suddenly a meadow and the shadows are suddenly beautiful, blessed light.