Needle And Thread

• Leila Norman, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2016

Needle and Thread


“No!” I thought. “No, she can’t be gone!” I cried into my dirty blonde hair.
“I’m afraid so, Lydia, but your mother lived a good life.” sighed Mr Castairs. My father left years ago, but my mother, gone? “Everything your mother owned is now yours, but the only thing of hers that we know survived the fire, was your mother’s needle and thread.” He pulled out a rusty bronze needle and some golden thread from his waistcoat. I tenderly took the needle and thread and put it in my dress pocket.
When I was little my mother used to sing to me when I couldn’t get to sleep, she would sew while she sang. “Are you sure she’s gone?” I whispered.
“Your mother died from the smoke of the fire, I’m sorry.” Replied Mr Castairs.
“NO!” I screamed. I wish I could have died in that fire like my mother but I was at the beach. Mr Castairs had told me what had happened as I was walking home.
“It has to be a lie!” I shouted, and I ran away as fast as I could towards the house, my legs were aching but I didn’t care, my mother was one of the only things I loved. I rushed through the street. A horse and cart nearly crashed into me. I jumped over bales of hay and baskets of apples. Finally I reached my mansion. It was horrible. Everything had collapsed and was charred. It reeked of smoke and burning wood. I walked through the wreckage, all the windows were smashed and the pots broken. I stepped through the foyer and into the lounge room. I ran up the stairs and into my bedroom. The walls were scorched but the closet and the bed were fine.
“You shouldn’t have ran off.” Scolded Mr Castairs “But I think the house is stable, if you want you can stay here the night.”
“Thank you.” I exclaimed. I crawled into bed. I didn’t care if I was still wearing my dress, I just wanted to go to sleep. Finally I drifted off. I opened my eyes, glued together with sleep. The house was madly shaking. I ran out of bed and felt the walls. I must have been dreaming, but no. I felt the scorched wall and it crumbled into dust. The house was collapsing! I ran down the stairs. CRASH! A pillar fell down at the end of the stairs nearly squashing me. It was blocking my way. I stood still, just a word would cause the whole house to crumble. I slowly turned around and heard a tinkle at my feet. The needle and thread had fallen out of my pocket. It rolled on the floor and hit the wall with a clink. The roof shook. Even a needle could cause an avalanche. I was going to see mother again. There was a final crash as the roof fell and the house was still.