Sadie

Sadie flung the sheaf of paper out of the window, watching its roundabout path through the gardens under the high, bright, sun, twisting and catching the light as it collapsed into a flock of white butterflies. Upon each of them were the small black markings that took her so many painstaking years to create for them, they may well had been written in her sweat, blood, and tears. So far she had carried them, and so high. Laced with silver dreams and golden hopes they were. She slammed the window shut upon her finger, using the sharp physical pain to dull the shock and despair that felt equal to what would come from losing a child.

Now they were being captured and stabbed by the cruel hands of her aunt's precious plants. Pressing her hands against the glass, she fell to her knees, sobbing. From all the tears, she was sure that her face looked like a series of hot, flowing, vertical strips of glass, like the one's her father used to make before he went off to study, and left her own with his vicious younger sister whose greatest joy in life seemed to be observing Sadie's misery.

A series of sharp, rhythmic taps on the door. A cold, high, hateful voice rung out from the hallway, drawing each of the vowels in Sadie's name to an impossible length.

"Sadie, Sadie? I want to have a little chat with you."

Sadie decided to ignore her aunt, taking a savage delight in her decision. She grasped the windowsill and roughly pulled herself up, still sobbing slightly. She was in her pajamas, and her hair was uncombed and flying in every direction. Her aunt would murder her if she knew that Sadie was like this at noon.

Maybe she could buy some time preparing herself before the inevitable confrontation.
Muttering colourful phrases amidst the remnants of tears, Sadie threw on a plaid skirt and a grey sweater. Running her fingers through it vaguely, she shoved her long, dark, hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. Finally, she stared coldly at the round mirror over her bedside table, numbing herself to her ugliness as she pressed her glasses into a lopsided position over her nose.

Stumbling vacuously towards the door, she hit with a stray elbow the paper maché cat statue that she had made in school and knocked it from its precarious perch on the shelf above her desk. It was lying in her way now, grinning in a threateningly oblivious way. She crushed it with her bare feet, feeling the hard, dusty surface cave and crack beneath her fury. She hit it over and over again, sobbing hysterically.

"Sadie, I demand to know what is going on in there!"

The tiny thread that had been unraveling inside Sadie's head the entire morning snapped.

"I suppose that you can come in if you like. Go ahead and twist the wound you've made in my life, you wicked hag."

Sadie made sure that her voice was dripping with hate, oozing from the many tentacles that were crushing her reason. Creaking menacingly, the door swung open, revealing by the inch the face of her aunt.

Madly rushing for the window, Sadie flung it open and vaulted over the sill to a vast, thorny freedom. Caught upside down against the wall, cheekbones grazed by the red-streaked rose vines, she began to cry again. Now she was sharing the pain of her children. Her hands clutched the rough, crumpled, papers, now stained physically with blood and tears shed for their protection. With renewed strength, she let go. A voice called out that was not her aunt’s. She fell.

What has Sadie done now? Calling her name once more, Emmett dashed barefoot over the long grass, approaching the stone garden wall. A sickening thud came from beyond, he winced at the sound. Placing one hand over the top, he vaulted over it neatly. The stones burned his hand slightly with heat from the unobstructed sun. Shading his eyes with a red-tinted hand, he looked ahead down the winding moss-covered path.

There she lay, crumpled beneath the white rose bush. Surrounding her were many sheets of paper, all destroyed to a varying degree. He recognized them immediately. Down the path he ran, reaching her side within a few moments. The plants caught at his sleeves, tugging him back, as if they preferred that Sadie be left alone.

Sadie was bruised and scratched all over her arms and legs, which hung at all angles along the ground. Face-down, she made a garbled noise that could perhaps have been recognized as speech if the ground had not blocked it. Emmett pulled her upright against the wall, making sure that nothing was broken. Opening her eyes slightly, Sadie leaned towards Emmett.

“She killed them, I swear she did.”

“Sadie, what are you doing? What did she say to you? Look, you’re a mess!”

With a sharp, jerky movement, Sadie stood upright, swaying slightly and panting.

“The blasted notes in the margins you idiot! I know who wrote them now. The last one she dared deface them with…”

On the verge of tears Sadie pointed a trembling finger at a savagely crumpled paper that hung precariously from a thorn a few feet below the window ledge. Knocking it free with one hand, Emmett caught it with the other, and unfolded it as best he could.

There were Sadie’s stories, odd things fabricated from her dreams during that one week, spiced with bits and pieces of memories. Scrawled in sickening pink marker on the bottom margin was a note in cursive.

You know very well, darling, that the Eldorling woods haven’t anything in them. Your father was young and foolish when he wrote that paper, and I wouldn’t deny that next time we speak, dear.

I’m so sorry…Sadie, are you alright? Sadie, I know that was awfully cruel but…Sadie?”

Sadie wrested his fingers open and snatched the paper. Holding it to herself with a strangled sob, she ran past him with a surprising speed towards the wall. She was far too swift, Emmett had no time to react. Scrambling madly over the wall, she was gone.

I hope she hasn’t got a mad idea about the woods again…Emmett shook his head and swore under his breath. He ran after her, sweating profusely. Where does she get all that energy? From her insanity most likely…

Leaping over the wall again, his eyes were met by a swarm of dragonflies. Sadie had already reached the pond, and was climbing slowly over the side of the old bridge.

“Sadie, this is madness!”

There was no reply. A flash of white against the blue of the sky caught his eye. Reaching out for it instinctively, he caught it in his hand. Opening it before his eyes, he read the words dyed in blood.

Madness is the last gift I have.

What I understand is that there is a probably 17(?) girl name Sadie who is.... obviously sad. She had a child, and she lost it, and all her notes of her life... gone. Her aunt started knocking on the door and Sadie doesn't want to be with her. She keeps knocking, and Sadie let's her aunt in. We figure out that it's not her aunt, but maybe someone notifying Sadie that her aunt fell down.