A familiar, sweet sounding voice snapped her out of her sleep-addled state. Looking up, Molly smiled at the sight of her blonde friend. The unexplained fondness that she felt towards the girl was still there, though it wasn't something that she particularly disliked. Quite the opposite, in fact; it warmed her heart, reminding her of good and happy times. She was reminded of an instance in the past, one memory that insisted on sticking with her through all these years. It too stemmed from a little girl. Following the weeks after her Ma left this world to be with her Pa, Molly was lazing on their old sofa by the window. Evening sun was shining in, painting all with an orange hue. A palm rested on the cover of a book she held in her lap, her gaze having listlessly journeyed from within the pages to the world outside the second-story window. Where she sat gave her a good view of the entrance to a cobblestone alleyway, one that now harbored a senile old beggar. They often exchanged words when she passed him by, though it was more often than not a one-sided conversation. The beggar provided her a human ear to vent and talk, so it didn't matter that she knew not if he even understood a single word.
Right now, a small girl in a blue, worn and frayed plaid dress was standing in front of him. An older woman stood beside her, ushering her to stop staring and move on. Molly watched as the girl gestured to the paper bag she held, pointing to the old beggar. The older woman, probably her mother, shook her head and moved to drag her daughter by her collar. The girl squirmed and struggled and her mother released her grip, visually frustrated at the altruistic nature of her daughter. The mother stormed off. Through tears, the girl rummaged through her paper bag and pulled out an apple, squatting to place the apple in the old man's hand.
It was a sight burnt into Molly's memory. She wasn't sure what the old man did with the apple, for she turned away from the sight after the little girl left. Such innocent kindness hurts. What she does know for certain is that the beggar died later that winter, body frozen solid after the passing of a heavy blizzard. For a brief while, she wondered if she could have saved him. That guilt was short lasting though, as she scarcely had enough to feed just herself. At that point in time, she hadn't yet begun to do business and make a name for herself in the criminal market. To house a senile old man was simply out of the question. There weren't any obligations that bound her to him. As for the girl, her fate remained uncertain. Molly never caught sight of her ever since that one evening, and now having moved away from her hometown, probably never would. Still, she thought about her every time this memory came back. Had she managed to turn her life around?
Bringing her focus back to the present, Molly responded to her little blonde friend, deciding to address the cute scene of Lucille jumping back and forth between her first and last name. "You can call me Molly if you want, even if Ms.Jones does have a nice ring to it," she said, grinning. "We're friends, so there's no need for any formalities. Pushing her chair back, she stood up and reached over to ruffle the girl's hair. "Good morning, Lucille."
She then caught sight of a certain short individual and his pet chimp. Raising a hand to greet them by, Molly sat back down as the Professor begun addressing the class. Despite her attempts to settle into the lesson, she was unable to ignore Lucille's attempts at making a new chimp friend, a sight that had her needing to suppress a light giggle. "The chimp and her should get along fine, she thought. With another attempt to tune in to the ongoing lesson, Molly pondered for a few seconds at the Professor's question before speaking up with her answer.
"It's how the gears in the mind tick, right?"
Last edited by Molly Jones on Wed Mar 02, 2016 11:11 am; edited 1 time in total