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"A woman's reputation is her worth"
That's what they tell me. My mother, my idiot brother, my auntie. All of them undermining me. It's been a very long time since I've felt worth something.
I'm not normal, proper, conventional, however you want to put it. I've always been odd, and have been paying for it my whole life
I never live up to anyone's expectations, whereas those around me seem to fit into this life of quiet servitude like a custom-made corset.
The papers follow my every move because, if nothing at all, I am interesting to those looking for a good scare. Some delicious gossip.
And then, to ice the cake of my disappointment in myself and those around me, mother, today, has given me news.
I am to be married. The very word make my chest heave a large sigh and look up at the heavens in remorse and shameful unhappiness.
"You are altogether too wild," Mother had said. "A man shall quiet your restless soul."
I hadn't protested, perhaps she was right, perhaps I need some straightening out, like a wrinkled bedsheet or a rumpled blouse. I do fear, however, the means in which I am to be straightened.
And so, here I sit, my maid tightening my corset to bend me into some ungodly shape. I shall meet this man today. This person who shall quiet my soul.
Somewhere, though, I don't want to be quieted, but I fear there is nothing for it. I am finished. Who I am is gone and my character is now pliable.
In these last nights leading up to our meeting, I have cleansed myself. I have rid myself of feelings that might hinder my future, at least I have tried.
Inside, I suppose, I am still there. Quieter and more discouraged than before, but there all the same. I can only hope that I shall be left to my own devices long enough to let myself out of this cage once in a while.
I cheered myself with one thought. And that was that at least I was going to be wed. I shall continue to have the finest clothing and housing and company. I'm lucky, really.
As my maid tightens the laces of my corsets more, I let the smallest of gasps escape my lips. It is painful, but necessary, like my marriage. Like my future.
I stand and let my maid help me step into a few petticoats, then she pulls my dress over my head. It's a pretty, but simple thing. A lavender and white seersucker that fits closely to my reduced frame.
I glance at myself in the full-body mirror in the corner. My dark locks have already been piled neatly on top of my head and my silhouette is rather nice after having been pulled so tightly. Altogether, I look lovely, to my quiet dismay.
I sigh deeply, a pain forming in my throat and nod.
"Shall we wait for him then," I hear myself say.
My maid nods, leading me out the door and down the stairs.
When we arrive in the spacious siting room, I see that my auntie has come for the occasion.
"Auntie," I say, surprised and not relieved, I strain a smile. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I am to be your chaperone for today's events." She says, beaming. "This really is such a smart match for you, Fee, a smart match indeed."
She uses my nickname, Fee, a name I haven't gone by since I was quite young.
"Yes, it is." I say, and the pain in my throat grows more severe.
"You look lovely, Felicity." Auntie says, genuine for what must be the first time in a while.
"Thank you, Auntie, that is most gracious of you."
This conversation is better, anything to get my mind off of my impending engagement.
"You do have a beautiful silhouette," She says, a hint of envy in her voice. "Your waist must be a perfect sixteen inches..."
"I believe it is, Auntie. I do work hard at these things, you know." I say.
And I do, if there's one thing I do enjoy about my station, it is the lovely clothing I receive. I wouldn't let my waist get in the way of having the latest fashions.
As I finish this, another servant walks into the room.
"Mister Wrigley has left his card in the foyer." He says.
He is ogling me and I glare at him, more out of frustration at the circumstances than real indignation.
"Send him in" Auntie says, before I can scream and run from the room.
And then, all at once, he is in front of me.
He is close to my age, not handsome, but not ugly. He walks in with a confident, intimidating stride.
"Miss Felicity." He says, taking my hand and kissing it gently.
I nod in response and he takes a seat beside me. My auntie places herself in the corner of the room.
"It is a pleasure to meet you." I say, quietly.
"And I am very glad to have met you as well, Miss Felicity." He says. "I trust you understand the nature of my visit."
He looks at me then in a way that makes me want to sink into myself.
"Yes." I squeak.
"I am here," He goes on, as if I have said nothing. "To ask you to marry me."
"Yes," I say, again, louder this time. "I...I accept."
Those two words seal my fate.
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Before I know it, the day of the wedding has come.
I sit in the same position as all those weeks ago, letting my maid cinch my corset, tighter and tighter till it feels as if my ribs shall break, then, I am helped into my wedding gown.
I watch the bridesmaids go before me, then let my father take my arm and lead me down the aisle.
He gives me away, I say my vows, the ring is on my finger, and I am a married woman.
It is then that I know I am going to be quite alone for the rest of my life.
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Title:
Speaking Up (Part one)
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Artist:
Hanawie
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Description:
The first part of my new story. I hope you all like it.
I don't advise reading the rest, if you're in the mood for cheery sorts of stories.
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Date:
11/15/2008
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Tags:
speaking
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