Sera returned home just as the sun was beginning to set, tired but rather proud of herself. In her hand was a scrap of paper upon which she had clumsily written her first name for the first time -- her entire first name -- with some help from Madge. Of course she had seen her name written out for her by her mother before but back then it had been just a mass of squiggly symbols she neither knew the names of nor what they meant. But now that she new at least the names and sounds of letters things were starting make so much more sense.
She burst through the front door, eager to show her mother her new accomplishment, only to find the house dark and the fire burned down to mere embers.
Mother? Hello?"
She felt around on the nearby table and found a spare candle which she carried over to the dying fire to light with the remaining embers. Once it was lit, she peered around the main room of their small house and saw... nothing. Could her mother have gone to bed early? Sera turned and moved to the bedroom they shared...
A panicked gasp escaped her and the paper with her name on it flittered the floor as she rushed to the thin figure sitting on the ground while her upper half rested on the bed.
"Ma! Are you alright? Is it bad again?"
Arissa looked up ever so slightly, visibly wincing at the pain that radiated from her neck and shoulders when doing so, an managed a wordless nod.
Sera wanted to cry, to scream, and to curse everything (and one person in particular, though he wouldn't hear her) all at once. Instead she held back her tears -- sad tears, fearful tears, angry tears -- and slowly helped maneuver her mother to bed, wincing at each gasp and cry of pain. All the while she was admonishing herself in her head.
Should have seen this coming. Maybe the cold weather we've been having is taking a toll on her. I should have gotten her more blankets or something. Or maybe all the work she's getting now? She said she didn't need more help but I should have done more anyway.
Sera pulled up the blankets and tucked her mother in before moving to her own bed, and pulling off the covers to drape them over her mother as an extra layer. She then rekindled both fireplaces in the house and lit a few more candles before pulling up a chair by her mother's bedside and taking the older woman's hand in her own.
It was going to be a long night. And, in the morning, if her mother wasn't feeling better, it would be time to get some help. After all, she isn't exactly alone and without options anymore.
