The day of the dead

Fan Fiction about Sean, non 18+

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sharpshooter1
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The day of the dead

Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 5:21 pm

A Sharpe fanfic written with love and thanks to CM xxx

The day of the dead


Yesterday on the feast of all souls, the vicar gave a sermon on our duty to remember and pray for the dead. My mind and my heart turned to my dead. I have never forgiven my father and mother and I pray they are enjoying a very hot afterlife.

Then I think of John, my beautiful dashing John, taken from me so wickedly. I think about that day, the rocking of the coach on the Bath road bringing him back to me. The highway man and that foolish, brave confrontation as John shielded the elderly couple in the coach. One shot and everything changed, he was gone forever. I was left bereft; no running away together to the new world, to marry and raise a family. With every beat of my heart I still miss him and the future we would have had.

My fat, rich father was busy selling me into a miserable marriage with the unsavoury younger son of an impoverished noble. He desperately wanted to climb that social ladder; I was his doorway to the aristocracy. Then I told him about the baby. All these years later I still feel the sting of his slaps and hear the echo of his shouting and shudder yet again at the terrible promise he made to me.

Polite society was informed I had retired to the country after being horribly scarred by small pox. I spent six months locked away in an old house he had bought. Under guard. Not even the servants were allowed to speak to me. My mother missed her London friends and whined and whimpered at her lot, having to stay with me in the country but never once did she comfort me.

When I birthed my son I saw and held him for just a few minutes, he was blond like his father and he waved his hand and I pressed a kiss into his tiny palm. My only gift to him. My father entered the room and as he promised he grabbed the baby and passed him to a hatchet faced woman who wrapped him in her dirty cloak and left the room. Happily I cannot really recall much of what happened to me for months afterwards, everything is remembered through a veil of unending tears and pain.

I never found my son. Later my father was killed when his horse shied at a jump and threw him. The servants later told me that the villagers said the babe appeared to him as he galloped towards the fence and it scared his horse. I do not really believe this story but it comforts that the villagers and even the servants loathed him and wished him dead.

I found out my son had been given to a wet nurse then when weaned taken to an orphanage in Southwark. The children were not cared for but put to work. There were no proper records and no one remembered him. Most of the boys died young, dead from diseases like cholera, dysentery and starvation. Some had been murdered or hung for being hungry and thieving to buy food. Some had run away, disappeared. He was just one among many lost souls.

Most of my father’s money went to a quiet bookish cousin called Giles. He settled a sum on my mother, she of course stayed in London and died of drink. We talked, he and I and I explained my situation. He was a good man and signed the old country house to me with a generous allowance. He had been no fan of my father and his cruelties.

Strange how much I wanted to die, how ready I was, yet here I still am. My son must be about fifty now, I am well into my seventies, yet still fit. For him, in his memory, I have taken in and helped young women cast out like I was. My house is full of babies, children and laughter it is the only revenge I can take on my parents. To live well, to laugh and do good when I can.

So today I think about and remember my dead. I think about my son, if he is dead is he safe with his father? If he lives is he happy? Does he even know how much I loved and still love him? Does he have green eyes like his father?

Fin

PS - Her father's death is based on the story of Wild Will Darrell - google Littlecote House. Been there stood in the bedroom - spooky, very spooky.
Last edited by sharpshooter1 on Tue Nov 01, 2011 10:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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morvgal58
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Day of the Dead

Post by morvgal58 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 5:34 pm

Oh Sharpshooter 1, this is GOOOOOD. Brief, not a word wasted. Thankyou for a very touching, clever post. (I am new to this, but with quality like this, I'm really going to enjoy!)
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sharpshooter1
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 5:42 pm

Thank you both so much - I am happy that you enjoyed this story.

Welcome to TMB Morvgal58 :-D
Last edited by sharpshooter1 on Tue Nov 01, 2011 5:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Moominmamma
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Post by Moominmamma » Tue Nov 01, 2011 5:46 pm

That's wonderful little tale. I enjoyed it very much! Thank you. :-D
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sharpshooter1
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 5:47 pm

Always a pleasure Mooms - glad you enjoyed.
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Post by mjcd1951 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 5:58 pm

It is always a pleasure to read your literary works. Thanks for the treat!
Joy :-D :-D :-D
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sharpshooter1
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 6:11 pm

Thank you Joy so glad you enjoyed it - writing Sharpe is always a pleasure.
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Post by ziadada » Tue Nov 01, 2011 6:23 pm

Beautiful story, thank you :-D
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sharpshooter1
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 6:31 pm

My pleasure Ziadada so glad you enjoyed it.
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Post by Way2prickly » Tue Nov 01, 2011 7:07 pm

That was beautifully written and perfect for today.
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sharpshooter1
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Post by sharpshooter1 » Tue Nov 01, 2011 7:11 pm

Thank you so much - I was searching for an idea to celebrate Halloween - no luck then thought about Sharpe's mother and wondered who she could have been and what might have really happened.
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Post by Czechmade » Tue Nov 01, 2011 7:14 pm

abighugs_gif abighugs_gif
I am here, my friend. Thank you so much, it is you and your loving and brave heart, never think of yourself but of others.
Lovely, lovely little story with a plenty to say and think of. And our darling Richard. :flower: :flower: :flower:
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Post by Astrid Hagen » Tue Nov 01, 2011 9:10 pm

Lovely story, Sharps! I like this "unresolved" ending, it has a ring of truth.
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