Now when Felina and the old, tired, horse could go no further she brought the poor creature, it's heart pounding back to the stables. Felina was drenched in a cold, bone chilling sweat just as the animal. Felina removed the saddle and tack, then dried the horse's gleaming wet coat off with a small towel. She made sure to brush out it's long flowing white mane and tail. Next she covered the noble, gentle creature with a woolen horse blanket. She mucked out the stable for Iguazu bringing him fresh water, even though a stable boy would be there in the morning, Felina wanted to do her last bit of service to her family and the animals before she was no longer bound to the Earth.
She felt quite ill, her thighs aching with the strenuous ride, a deep red flush to her face and fevered brow. Wiping the sweat off her cheek, she went over to the small refrigerator next to the tack room; where she brought out a handful of peppermint candies for the horses she loved. Felina went over to the stalls giving each horse a treat as she petted their faces saying goodbye to each valued member of her animal family. It was with a great heaviness in her heart that she bid each beautiful creature adieu. She stopped, picking up the massive black cat that lived in the stable, their well honored 'mouser'; which purred with delight as she did so. Felina stroked the soft silken fur as she lovingly nuzzled the old cat to her chest and with a tear she set the happy cat back on a bale of hay. Felina walked to the big doors and turned around and said "Good bye, for now, my dear, faithful friends, until I see you all in Heaven again." with this she shut off the light and closed the door. Walking up the path that led to the great house in which she would no longer be living Felina gathered her courage, wiping the tears from her eyes.
The air was frigid now and the sky had grown very dark. The wind blew harder against her face and her sweat drenched body as she struggled to keep one foot in front of the other, so great was the pain in her thighs and calves. Felina had no concept of time, she could have been out riding for an hour, or ten, she could not say. The house was dark now as she approached, the scent in the air of wet wood, dew and dead leaves. A deep icy chill ran through her veins, her blood like frozen water as she made it up the stairs to the terrace. Felina stood in front of the french doors and as she reached out resting her hand on the door knob, she paused before going in, thinking of the countless times she had done so, coming into the house in a happy mood, or slamming the door behind her in a rage. On one occasion she had become so angered by Serena, Felina had slammed the door so hard shattering nearly every pane of glass, much to her father's disgrace. Now she turned the knob for the last time entering the grand, well appointed mansion she had known all her life, where she learned to crawl and walk upon the marble floors, her newly found voice echoing off the walls and down the long corridors.
Felina stood inside the doorway for a moment, then she closed the door gently behind her, locking it. Here she tried to work out in her head the best course of action to take on this her last evening alive. She stood there drenched in her riding clothes smelling of sweat and horse manure. Felina went up the grand staircase, but not to her room, no, she went instead to the east wing of the house; where her brother Xation's master suite was located. Now this room had been locked shortly after his funeral and it was left exactly the way it was when he had left, to fly back to Dallas, never to return again. Felina had hid the key behind a painting in the long hall that led to the large room. She had come on a few nights when she could find no rest and would come and curl up in the massive four poster bed; the sheets still smelling of Xation's cologne. Felina entered the quiet room where all was still, the scent of dead, dried roses permeating the air. Felina walked softly her boot heels echoing off the tile floor as she passed the fireplace; the mantle of which was covered with pictures of her handsome brother, and candles which had long since burned down. It was a sad abandoned altar but three years had passed and the sadness that existed in this room was like a burdensome spirit of despair, the weight of which had become a burden to extreme to bare. It was in this dark hour Felina went into the marble and gilt-mirrored bathroom where she stripped off each piece of her wet clothing one by one, tossing her garments on the bench by the glass shower. She gazed at her tan naked skin and the smooth curves of her lean muscular body, and she was pleased, if only her heart and mind could have been as sweet and pleasing to the world, perhaps she would not be taking her life tonight. But nothing is fair in love and life so her thoughts turned to the knife. Her morbid souvenir from the night of the attack. Charles had tossed the knife aside as he had finished the long deep, clean cut in her rapist's throat, the blood stained weapon had slid underneath the prep table. Felina had found it a month or so later and had wrapped it up in a bar towel and hid it in a drawer for many years. So she thought of this knife tonight, believing it only fitting that she use the very same weapon to slit her wrist, and give up her life. Felina wanted to suffer and from this sharp instrument of death is where she wished to receive the pain.
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