*July,1828*

"You'll learn to love him," her mother had said. "It takes time. See how I learned to love your father?" Aurelie sighed. "No, Maman, that is not what I want. I want to just fall in love, not learn to love. And I can't fall in love with a man keeps doing this to me." She then showed her mother the bruises and cuts he had left on her body. Her mother tensed up, repulsed at the state of her least favorite daughter. She took a deep breath, and Aurelie already knew what she was going to say : If only you were more like..."If only you were more like your sister, Celeste..." her mother said. "Then he would treat you better.

*******
*September, 1828*
Gently, painfully, she stood up. She cringed and whimpered at the pain she felt in her legs, her torso, her whole body in fact. She turned and saw her reflection, with bruises covering her pale, freckled body. She carefully made her way to the mirror, and inspected the severity of the wounds. Her trembling hands touched her face, making sure this was real, making sure the mirror wasn't tricking her. But it was real. All the bruises, the cuts, the tears, they were all so very real, and Aurelie fell to the floor, sobbing. I can't do this Maman. I can't. I've tried, and I've failed. I can't learn to love this man, Maman. She remembered their conversation, which had, as always, ended with Aurelie being compared to her twin, Celeste. She had tried a countless amount of times to try to be as good as her sister, Constance Opaline, but when Aurelie's wild read curls, freckled covered face, and clumsiness was compared to her sister's smooth red hair, perfect skin, and impeccable manners, she just couldn't win.
She wiped away her tears, trying to reconstruct her wall. Several years ago, Aurelie Alexandrie Laroux had realized that to survive in her family, she had to construct an impenetrable wall around her, a wall that hid all emotions, desires, dreams, and hopes. And tonight, the humiliation, frustration, and despair caused it to crumble and fall.

She hated him. She hated the fact that she was born into a family that was incredibly shallow and narrow-minded. She hated the fact that she had to marry this bastard. She hated the fact that nobody believed her when she told them what he did. But most of all, she hated the people the people who had arranged this damn marriage.

Since she was part of an upper-class family, she was forced into an arranged marriage. Her husband-to-be was a man named Stephan Baston, and he was the man who tortured Aurelie every chance he got, while acting like a true gentleman around everyone else. She knew it was no use telling anyone. They'd all tell her what a gentleman he was, how she was so incredibly lucky to marry him someday. But Aurelie knew what he was truly like. She had seen it, and been scarred by it, both physically and emotionally. He was in of the many reasons she decided she couldn't stay in this cage called a house.

Her family, as we have said before, was incredibly shallow. They couldn't care less about whether Aurelie was happy with her husband, as long as he remained rich. Whenever she tried to talk t them about how she didn't love him, and never would. They just want to stay rich, and claimed that she would learn to love him as the years go by. But she does not believe in learning to love someone; she believed that marriage should happen between two people who loved each other very much, and had been put together by fate, by destiny, not by selfish relatives. Many would call her a stupid young girl that had read too many fairy tales for believing this.

Aurelie grabbed a cloth bag, and stuffed in all things she deemed necessary, such as clothes, and money. She left all her elegant gowns and dresses behind, thinking they wouldn't be of much use. She changed into the simplest dress she had, trying to avoid the purple bruises Baston had placed all over her pale, freckled body, and slipped on the most comfortable shoes she had. She grabbed a coat, and making as little noise as possible, walked out of her room.

She walked as quietly as she could through the hallway, praying that for once in her life, she could walk across the wooden floor, down the spiraling stairs, to the oak doors, and run through the gate, without being caught. She did fine, until she got to where the end of the hallway, where she clumsily tripped over her own two feet, plummeting to the floor with a loud THUMP!

Aurelie froze on the floor, like a deer in headlights. She listened for any noise coming from any bedroom, and heard mumbling from one of the bedrooms. The bedroom which she knew to be occupied by Stephan Baston. She quickly got up and raced to the closest hiding place in case he decided to come out. She cringed at the thought of him finding her, and beating her mercilessly. She remained in her hiding spot until the mumbling eventually subsided, and was replaced by snores. Aurelie held out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She picked herself up, and continued down the stairs, and walked down the long hallway, to the door. She stole one last gaze at the paintings, the touch-me-not furniture, and the massive chandelier. With a heavy and tired sigh, she grabbed the door knob, and opened the door to reveal the dark night. She silently walked through the doors, and escaped from the confine she had once called "home".

Her lungs burned. Her feet hurt. She kept running. And she ran, and ran, and ran. She kept on running until her lungs felt like they were on fire, until her body couldn't take it anymore. Panting, she looked around, trying to find a safe place. Well, as safe as it could get for a young girl in the streets. Looking around, realizing how unsafe it was for her out here, it struck her that she did not know how long she'd have to live like this. She knew that there was not a single member of her family willing to hide her, and the only friends she had ever had had not been able to speak with her for a very, very long time, and she didn't even know if they were still alive. No one would take her in, and she had been warned many times about the dangers of staying at an inn. She sighed wearily, and continued wandering about, looking for a place to stay the night. This wasn't very well thought-out, now was it? I didn't even think of where I could stay. Of course Aurelie, just grab some clothes, run away, with absolutely no plan at all! I could at least have tried to find Richard, perhaps he is still living in these parts, and would be willing to take me in. We were best friends, were we not? Mon Dieu! What do I do now? No food, no water, no shelter, no warmth, and with winter coming along so soon! I haven't got much time! I need to find a job. A good job.

Aurelie found a secluded bench, and decided to spend the night there. She laid down, and started planning the next day. I needn't worry about Maman and Papa looking for me, she thought. They'll rejoice at the sight of my empty bed. No more disgraceful Aurelie. No more trying to teach me how to be a proper lady. They'll only have Celeste, the beautiful, well-mannered, empty-headed , stupid daughter.

The two sisters hadn't always hated each other. They were once inseparable. But things changed. Their mother, Madame Laroux eventually began teaching the girls the manners expected from a young lady, and had very high expectations, which Aurelie did not live up to. Madame Laroux began comparing her two daughters, and kept asking Aurelie why she had to be the way she was, why she preferred running around and laughing to being quiet.

Celeste meant "heavenly, divine", and had been given that name in the hopes that she would be so. And she certainly did turn out heavenly. She had the perfect manners, beautiful, soft hair, and minimal flwas on her skin. Every man that saw her wanted her as his mistress. Aurelie meant "golden", and she had been given that name in the hopes that she would be a golden child, the perfect daughter. But she was not her family's idea of a perfect child. While she was polite, she liked to speak her mind rather than keep it to herself, and she would rather play in the garden or in the streets than have a tea party. The only thing that Madame Laroux thought was wonderful about Aurelie were her eyes. They seemed to change color. They were a bluish-greenish color, but had a combination of blue, green, and gold near her irises*. They were beautiful, and mesmerizing.

But Madame Laroux favored Celeste and always asked Aurelie why she couldn't be as lady-like, why she had to be so clumsy and unattractive in comparison to her sister. Why she always wanted to run around and make a mess instead of staying still and not doing anything. Why she had unrealistic dreams of true love. She made Celeste believe that she was better than Aurelie in every way, which made Celeste treat her sister like she was worth nothing, and made Aurelie believe that she was worth nothing.

Where shall I go? I can't sat here forever. Aurelie shifted, and winced at the pain from the various cuts and bruises. Well, on the bright side, I won't be seeing Baston again anytime soon. Unless he tries to find me. Aurelie started to worry, but she decided that it was unlikely he'd want a girl living on the streets. She yawned,and decided to go find a job tomorrow. It can't be that hard, right? She had no idea how wrong she was.

However, that night, when she fell asleep, her mind was filled with happy thoughts and memories. That night, she did not get any flashbacks of Baston abusing her, and instead, dreamed of a bright and happy future, or remembered happy childhood memories. The most prominent memory had been the memory of her meeting her best friend, Richard, for the first time. Many years had gone by since they met, but Aurelie remembered it with such clarity, as if it had just happened the day before.
And with that memory, Aurelie slept, with no plans, and no idea as to what was going to happen soon.

* - A lot like Benedict Cumberbatch's eyes.