Author's Note: I do NOT own any of the characters in this story! They all belong to Mr. Julian Fellowes.
Also, there will more than likely be spoilers in this story for series three, so watch out if you're reading and haven't seen it yet.
This is my first-ever fan fiction, so bear with me, and please review! =]
Much Love! xoxo
She was shaking. She was shaking worse than she could ever remember shaking before in her life. As she lay there, crying, she shook violently and she knew that sleep would never come.
Earlier that day, the love of her life, her husband John, had been sentenced to death for a crime that he didn't commit. Anna's life had come crumbling down around her in a matter of seconds and she feared there would be no way of repairing it. Everyone kept telling her that there was a way to stop it. They kept saying that they could get the sentencing commuted and that they would find a way to keep John from being killed. However, in her mind, she could not see any way for this to happen. In her mind, she was already a widow. In her mind, she was alone.
Lady Mary had sent her to bed early. However as she looked at the clock in her room, reading 11:34, she knew everyone, both family and staff, would be in bed, asleep. As she lay in her own bed, the day's events kept replaying themselves in her mind. The jury's "Guilty," the judge reading the death sentence, Mr. Murray saying, "It's not a good chance," and most hauntingly, John's whispered "Anna" were all that she could hear.
She turned her face into her pillow as she choked out a sob, a fresh round of tears accompanying it. The fabric was already soaked and she tasted the saltiness of her tears on her lips. She thought about John. She thought about their wedding night and the happiness they had shared together.
When was the last time I was happy? Truly happy? Before Mr. Bates arrived?
Many happy things passed through her thoughts but none of them embodied the true meaning of happiness for her. Right now, the only happiness she could think of was being with John. Being held by him.
I have to think farther back. Happiness. When was the last time I was truly happy before Mr. Bates arrived? When was the last time I didn't have a care in the world? When was the last time I felt most myself when - - -
She sat up in her bed as an answer came to her mind. She made her way over to the small wardrobe in the room. She grabbed a chair, and hoisted herself onto it. She reached up, grabbed the suitcase from on top, and brought it over to the bed. She opened it up, and softly smiled at the tan cloth bag that was lying inside, exactly where she had left it. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, grabbed the bag from the case, and slowly and quietly made her way out of her room and into the hallway.
She made her way down the halls, clutching the bag tightly to her chest for fear that it would make some sort of noise and wake somebody, even though there was no one around. She walked on tiptoes, and tried to avoid every creak in the floors.
Even though she had not been to the room in almost eleven years, she knew how to get there better than she knew how to iron a dress. She could probably get there safely even if she had been asleep.
When she reached the correct corridor, she somewhat loosened her grip on the bag and felt her body relax, but only slightly. She walked on, to the direct middle of the hall and stopped. She turned on her heel, to the left, and stared at the large, wooden, double doors in front of her. She let out a soft sigh.
What am I doing? Can I really do this after almost eleven years? Will I be able to handle it? Will my body be able to handle it? I'm not as young as I used to be. Even still. This is the closest thing I will have to being happy. This is the only thing that would be able to bring me some sort of comfort. The only thing other than John.
A single tear fell from her eye as she thought about him again. She closed her eyes, and took in a sharp breath. She wiped away the tear, turned the door handle, and pushed the door open.
As she stepped into the room, she glimpsed the mirrors lining the wall, as well as all the furniture piled high. The room was exactly as she remembered it: to this day, no one ever came up here and used it. No one...except her. She closed the door quietly behind her.
She didn't make her way back to her bedroom until shortly before dawn.