Hello you all lovely people! I'm back in form of a one-shot that I actually might make into a story, we'll see when I'll be able to finish Solitary Motions. Anyway, this is something that has been bouncing in my brains for quite some time now and I hope with this I can get back in gear and start writing again! :}
Traditional apologies: Grammar and spelling errors are a must in my works it seems. Try to spot them and tell them about me so I can so something about them!
Disclaimer: I certainly do not own any of the characters and places of Miss Jane Austen's books. And what comes to persons and places on this fan fiction that you don't recognize I have made them up. No harm intended, I swear.
Please read and review, but most of all try to enjoy the story!
Milde
The Only One Left
Happy birthday!
No it was not, not anymore, it had been years since the last time she enjoyed this day. Miss Catherine Bennet saw nothing happy in turning twenty-and-eight. She was nearly thirty years old, and she was still called Miss Bennet. When she had been sixteen she had thought that by the time she turned twenty she would be married to a handsome redcoat and live happily ever after. She had fallen back down to earth from her daydreams rather harshly when she realized her time was running out.
She glared at the window when the rooster let out a horrible cry which, Catherine was quite sure about this, could even wake the dead. When she had been a young woman she used to sleep late, now she was up before the sun. One did not sleep when worries and fears and the pressure of your family, and even the society's, stressed you constantly. She looked at the dark dress folded neatly on the old chair and swallowed hard, trying to gather her courage. After a moment or two she stood up from the bed, washed her face with the cold water and got dressed. The fabric seemed heavy and itchy and the dress seemed so tight the miss was sure she was going to faint and suffocate before she could make it out of her room. Not that she really wanted to leave her sanctuary.
Happy birthday!
Catherine, she could not be called Kitty anymore without it making her feel ridiculous, glanced at the cap she had been making for the past few months with reluctance, and with pale, hesitant fingers grabbed it from the table where it had been waiting for this day and slowly placed it on her head. Carefully she hid her black curls under it and turned to look at herself from the mirror. A small woman with wide, terrified eyes was staring back at her. She bit her lip and with some amount of self-hatred born from failure and embarrassment, thought that at least now looked her part. A spinster. She nearly burst into tears at that notion.
Happy birthday!
Twenty-eight years... She wondered how the time had gone so quickly. Every single one of her sisters - even Mary who was plain enough to be invisible! - had gotten married before the age of twenty-five. All except Catherine Bennet. She had passed the point where she could refuse the cap, where she could still dream about Prince Charming and love that would last a lifetime. There was no hope for her. She had kept Charlotte Collins née Lucas as the point of no return and now she had passed it. She knew she should have stopped using soft colours the day she turned twenty-and-five, but she loved all those pastels from soft pink to baby blue, and all the smooth fabrics and pretty laces and rosettes. And one should not to forget the balls where you danced all night and flirted and teased you admirers.
Suddenly Catherine felt annoyed and betrayed, the bitter taste was so strong in her tongue she wanted to retch. She had once had plenty of men around her, all of whom had adored and admired her, but none of those men, not even one, had proposed to her or even hinted that what they felt was love.
Happy birthday!
She leaned closer to the mirror, her pale grey eyes behind her thick lashes didn't look any wiser than they had been when she was sixteen. A spinster, the word echoed in her head unpleasantly. She couldn't even call herself a bluestocking. Being unmarried had not been her choise. She sighed, maybe her father had been right, maybe she really was one of the silliest girls in all of England and now she also was one of the loneliest. That thought didn't make her feel any better and she could feel how the cold claw of panic was starting to squeeze her heart. No, she told herself, she had to stay calm and smile. Today was about her after all, she had to smile.
Smile, you stupid girl! Smile! She screamed at her reflection, but it seemed like she had forgotten how to do that. Slowly and with concentration she lifted the corners on her pink lips up, more and more until her teeth were showing. It looked more like a grimace of pain, but that wasn't what bothered her the most in the reflection of the woman she wished and prayed was not hers. She touched the corners of her eyes and frowned. Were those wrinkles?!
Happy birthday!