ben and rebekah

Ships in bottles

Who: Ben and Rebekah
When: early morning
Where: behind their houses

It was cold in the house. That was something she probably ought to appreciate, considering what her future had in store. Rebekah was walking through the rooms for the ten thousandth time, barefoot with a linen skirt brushing around her calves. Her eyes wandered, memorizing again every inch of the place that was now "home". It was strange to think, but the room she'd had in the mansion had been more home-like. Perhaps it was just a matter of time. She could decorate this place maybe, rearrange ... though what would be the point, ultimately? They'd given her all of her art supplies, neatly stacked in the extra bedroom, but she had yet to touch them, aside from assigning them places. Being secluded in that room ... it had ruined her, gotten her out of her own rhythm, broken her down.

Her steps eventually took her outside, through the back door and into the small yard that was behind the house. She stepped down off of the concrete steps and onto the dying grass, feeling it crunch just a little under her feet. There wouldn't be time to try and grow anything before winter truly came. It was on it's way. Rebekah walked out a few paces into the yard and stopped, arms hugging her thin frame. She looked out over the fences, down the row of houses, wondering who else occupied them.