The DuBois Pentology
Tale the Second:
Snowfall
(1827-1847)
Chapter One: First Snowfall
It began and ended with a snowfall; the child was conceived whilst snowflakes were gently falling from the gray heavens-- covering the small house in a beautiful white glaze, and as beautiful as this scene would appear to anyone with a touch of romance in his heart, there was, however, a much darker side to things…
For Isabelle, fifteen years of age at the time had not consented to the act that would eventually produce the child nine months later. No. It was not beautiful; she was being raped by her own cousin.
"Stop!" she wailed, but he would not; he was a rather large man, and although she had successfully been able to resist his advances many times before this day, he had finally been able to overpower her, Someone has to help me, she thought, but no one was around for miles to hear her desperate screams; The snow, she realized at last-- after what seemed like hours had passed, he at last got off of her, and began to dress again for his workday, as if nothing had just happened between the two of them.
"You pig," she hissed, but he dismissed her words, "I'm off to work, fair cousin," he whispered, ignoring the angry tears pouring down her cheeks, and without a second glance, he left the small house, and Isabelle stood there, still reacting to everything that had just transpired. Still trembling from both fear and anger, she bolted the door, and watched her cousin leaving the house that they shared with three others; They'll never believe me, she thought, pulling the curtains over the small window she had been looking out of, and bathing the house in darkness… Tears streaming down her face, and her naked body, she sat on the wooden floor of the cottage, and screamed out in despair; I cannot live like this, she thought, her hands continuing to shake as she brought them up to her hot and damp face, What can I do? She felt an emptiness inside of her-- she hated the sickening bastard.
She stood up once again, and felt her hands moving upon their own will; snatching a small hunting dagger from up off of a nearby table, and then raising it high above her chest, the blade eager to dig deeply into her flesh, and end all of her misery…
No.
She could not simply end her life just because of all that had happened to her today… After all, he was the one who deserved to die; she let the dagger fall onto the floor, and put her pale face in the palms of her hands once again as she continued to weep bitterly. The flow of tears steadily worsened, and the emptiness within her grew and grew.
How could this have happened to me? She wondered, angrily; To my knowledge, I have never sinned, and yet God allowed him to hurt me…
She sighed, heavily. God could not be blamed for the sinful actions of corrupted men-- she knew this. She began to dress for her daily chores; hoping that they would help to shut out everything that had happened that morning. She pulled her long, dark hair back, and tied it up; her aunt, uncle, and eldest cousin were away, and would not be back for a few more days…
She boiled a pot of water for the medicinal tea that would hopefully calm her, and sitting there at the table, with a mug of tea clutched in her still trembling hands, she continued to cry until she was so empty that nothing more would come out.