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The Holidays are supposed to be a time for cheer, and yet there's something strangely dismal about tonight. You're out by yourself and you pass by a building completely coated in a strange sheet of ice. When you catch your reflection, you're trapped reliving your loneliest moment. The illusion can last for as long or short a time as you like, but the hollow sensation lingers even after the memory fades. What memory did you find yourself reliving and, now that it's over, what are you going to do to shake this mood?
Rhona had intended to get everything before Lavender came over for mulled wine and Hallmark Christmas movies, but inevitably, despite her best efforts, she had forgotten something. And not just anything, like cinnamon or orange peel which she could arguably work without. She had forgotten the damn wine. Rhona was gathering everything together in her kitchen and had heaved the longest, heaviest, most put-upon sigh in the history of mankind when she realized what she had done.
Okay.
Fine.
Rhona clearly had no choice but to bundle herself up and head back into the dark and frozen night. The thought hollowed out a pit in her stomach and poisoned her mood pretty thoroughly... she'd need to perk back up before Lavender got there.
Hey babe, I'm going to have to postpone the meeting time about half an hour, I forgot the damn wine. xoxoxo Rhona.
The night was black and achingly frozen, causing Rhona to retreat back into her coat and scarf for shelter and warmth. It irritated her further, with her seasonal affective disorder already in full swing despite her sunning herself under those fancy lightbulbs that are supposed to emulate sunlight. How long had it been since she had seen the sun? Three days? Four? Clouds hung in dreary overcast day after day after day sinking Rhona further and further into desolation despite her best efforts.
No, she thought. Lavender is coming over soon. We're going to watch Hallmark movies and drink mulled wine and maybe make out and if I play my cards right she'll spend the night. But she won't want to do any of that if I'm in a piss poor mood.
Maybe the stroe she was going to would have a treat for her too. Something she could munch on while she walked home...
Motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Right away Rhona assumed the worst and began to reach into her pocket for her henshin pen and whirled around to be met face to face with -- herself. The tension melted away from her body as she realized that she was looking at her own reflection, and awe soon rolled in to take its place. It wasn't just a reflective window... the whole building was coated in ice. A small sound of surprise escaped Rhona's lips as she reached out to touch the surface of the building as though to make sure it was real.
And then the wonder turned to horror as the reflection of her surroundings melted away and shifted into something else. A parlor with soft, fashionable window treatments, hardwood floors, and a calming grey and pastel blue color scheme. A funeral parlor. Her funeral parlor.
Rhona's heart froze and hit the ground with what she swore was an audible sound. She felt sick all of the sudden, and the world began to spin and tilt dizzily. She hadn't thought about this day in so long... not because she had tried to bury it, it was just that she had so much going on...
The door on the left wall opened with a soft click and a remembered version of Rhona, still feeling out the boundaries of her new body, entered the room and halted suddenly when she saw the casket sitting under the picture window on the wall opposite where Rhona -- the real Rhona -- was standing. Rhona could remember this moment as clearly as if it was yesterday. In her mind, that pause had lasted hours, but watching it now, she had only stood still for a second or two before she approached the coffin hesitantly.
Don't open it.
Memory-Rhona's hand reached out, shaking visibly, and touched the top of the coffin. She was standing there, the body of the girl they were going to bury, and so she knew there would be nothing in that coffin. Yet she still lifted the lid. Looking back, Rhona still didn't know why she did it, but she did. And Rhona watched as her memory's version of herself did the same and then paled as she looked within. From her angle, and the way Memory-Rhona was positioned, the real Rhona couldn't see what was inside, but she knew.
Sand bags.
She had left her family no body to bury, so they had to have a closed casket and weigh it down so that it didn't feel so empty when the pallbearers carried it away.
The door opened again and Memory-Rhona dropped the lid in her shock. Standing in the doorway was a woman with dark hair curling in waves around her shoulders, a man t her shoulder with hair that matched Rhona's, and a young man who could have been her reflection. Rhona's breathing hitched in her throat an instant before a sob tore itself out of her. The sob turned into a cry and that cry lasted longer than she thought she was capable of carrying a single note. She felt the ground beneath her knees before she registered that she had fallen to them.
"Excuse me," came the woman's voice. Memory-Rhona looked rooted to the place she stood and gaped.
"Excuse me what are you doing here?"
Her voice sounded harsher than Rhona remembered. Memory-Rhona stammered and grasped for an answer before she finally choked out, "I-I-I think... lost... I thought... someone else..."
"Young lady, you have the wrong place. We are here to bury my daughter," the word tore itself painfully from Rhona's mother and slammed itself into Rhona it enough force to cause her to curl in on herself. "I don't know who you are looking for, but they aren't here."
Mrs. Driscoll blew past Memory-Rhona and rested a hand weakly on the lid of the casket with almost reverent hesitation. She began to shake as she stood there, with her back to Memory-Rhona, but from her current angle, the real Rhona could see her mother's face crumble and twist with grief that she could never have fathomed had she not seen it for herself. Rhona remembered thinking that it was anger that made her former mother shake like that... shame washed over her with the new realization.
Finally whatever it was that rooted Memory-Rhona to the spot released her and she stumbled away, pushing past the man who had once been her father and her former twin. Marcus Driscoll glanced back at her and then went to his wife who whirled around and began to sob into his chest but Misha... Misha turned to watch Rhona go and held that line of sight. His face was blank, but Rhona knew from the look in his eyes that he knew.
The vision shimmered on the screen and faded, leaving Rhona cold, alone, and hollow while she sobbed brokenly in the snow.
