A journey through Emily's eyes of her final hours.
I've been reading European literature for the past week, so this is going to read more high-brow than I intend it to. This is a big elaboration of Emily's tale in the Bonejangle song.
Betrayed
You don't think about it, you just do it. You don't think about the day your mother intended to give you her wedding dress. You don't think about how long these jewels have been in the family. You just take them and stuff them in a bag. You do not call attention to yourself and even make an effort to stealthily avoid the house servants. You slip out the door and lift the hood of your cloak as you climb on to your mare. You don't even say good-bye to your parents. You never will.
You ride up to the meeting place, the rain splashing down on your face. Your heart feels like it's about to break. You wanted to tell them… You know Papa would have approved in time, learned to like him or at least understand your love. But plans change. It's what your fiancé wants, and what more can be said? It is selfish to remain and force him to depart without you.
You hear the jewels and gold jingling almost merrily as the mare bounds down the dirt road. The dark wood stretches out before you. A chill goes down your spine, and it isn't because of the rain. There's a graveyard near the wood and local legend foretells the wood to be haunted. By what, the accounts vary, but a ghost is a ghost as far as you're concerned. You shake away your fears as you enter the wood's shadow. You stopped believing in ghosts when you were a child. You're about to become a bride and are no longer a child. A small smile crosses your features. You're a woman now, aren't you?
Again, your heart goes out to your mother, but then your lover's face enters your mind and you grow cold to Mama's memory. This is for love, and what purer motive was there ever?
You reach the meeting place and find shelter under a tree. You dismount the mare and pat her affectionately. Soon your lover will arrive and you will ride off together to a happy, full life. You smile to yourself. It's just like a fairytale, isn't it? You look down at your bag and the gold glints back at you, almost like a reassuring wave. You lean against the tree and await his arrival.
There's a church on the other side of the wood and that is where you will finally be wed. Can you imagine it? You finally a bride? You'll be his wife. He'll actually call you 'wife' and him 'husband'. You look musedly down at your right hand and wonder what the ring will look like. It doesn't matter much anyway; a tied string would serve just as well so long as the union is sound! Suddenly you panic-the vows! Neither of you have rehearsed your vows! Your mind races for the words… Oh, how can you possibly express your love for him in so clumsy and awkward a way as human language?
Wait, what were the vows for your parents? Mama has told you a few times, holding Papa's hand fondly.
"With this hand…" You pause and try to remember. What do you do with hands? You…pull? No. Push? No. You… Lift! Yes, that's it! "I shall lift your sorrows!" You announce to the wood triumphantly.
You discover and practice the entire vows for a time, until suddenly you hear some commotion in the brush. You turn, half frightened, half expectant of your lover. You pause, a little afraid of being discovered by someone with ill intent. But what if it's your fiancé?
"Barkis?" you call out hesitantly, "Barkis, is that you?"
Sure enough, a large stallion comes crashing out of the wood with your love riding! He looks so handsome, so intense. You greet him enthusiastically, thrilled to finally see him. You don't quite notice how much of a hurry he seems to be. He dismounts and you throw your arms around his neck.
"Oh, I've missed you so!" you cry.
He shakes you off and stares at you for a moment. "What on earth are you…" He suddenly looks a little dumbfounded. "Is that a wedding dress?"
You whirl about in it, the long skirt flowing in the wind. "It's my mother's. Didn't have time to get one myself of course, and since we're headed right to church…"
He pauses for a moment, then turns to the bag afixed to the mare's saddle. "You get the jewels? The gold?"
You understand that he's anxious. This is a rather adventurous operation, after all. "Well of course I got them." He starts picking through the bag and he seems greatly cheered. You sidle up to him. "You know we don't have vows?"
He turns to you as though he's just become aware of your presence. "What?"
"Vows," you repeat, "We don't have vows. But don't worry, I remember my parents'."
He suddenly turns away and shakes his head as he grabs the bag of jewels. "Right, look, It doesn't matter."
You frown after him. "What? Of course it does! We need vows to get married, Barkis!"
He attaches the bag to his own saddle and turns to you with a shrug and a smirk. "Sorry, love, but it isn't happening."
You don't understand, or rather, don't want to. "What?"
The bag attached, he turns fully back to you. "I've got all I want." He suddenly looks interestedly at you and your hope is renewed. "Unless that dress is worth something…" He shakes his head. "No. Ah, well."
He slaps your mare and she runs off into the wood. He walks right past you without so much as a glance. "Farewell, Emily. It's been…well, interesting. But, had to cut the relationship short."
You suddenly fully understand. Denial gives way to fury. You're often a proper lady, but when your temper gets the best of you…
You run up behind him and, anger blinding you to any other action, shove him. In the wet earth, he slips and falls flat on his face. His horse startles and nearly tramples him. You like that. Barkis gets to his feet and whirls around at you, his clothes and face covered in mud. You laugh hysterically at the sight, until he storms over and hits you across the face. The hit rings out into the wood like the thunder of reality.
It is at this moment that your heart breaks. You can actually feel it crack and shatter. Sadness and pain fills you to the brim. Your vision gets foggy as tears come to your eyes. This was supposed to be a night ending in love. He was supposed to be your true love. And instead you've been made a fool of and soon a victim of this heathen thief.
You stumble back and put a hand to your face, shocked. "How dare you!" you exclaim indignantly, able to keep all sobs out of your voice. You sound strong.
He dismisses you with the wave of his hand and mounts his horse. You run forward, not to attack, but to save the treasure. You grab the back of your family jewels and, with a surprisingly mighty tug, rip the satchel away from the saddle. The bag in your hand, you turn to run. You hear him leap off the horse and now he's running after you.
As it happens, fate ever cruel, a root jutting out from the earth causes you to stumble. He catches up and, as you trip, he pushes you to the ground. You land hard and cry out, but hold onto the bag.
He towers over you and grabs the satchel and now it's a bitter struggle over the fortune. You refuse to release the bag, courage filling your being. These are your family's heritage, your family's wealth, and should never be touched by the low likes of him!
"Spoiled wench!" he spits as he fights for the bag.
"Let go!" you shout loudly, your voice echoing through the trees.
He hits you again, and this time much harder. Your loud shout seems to have startled him. He suddenly puts one of his hands over your mouth to silence you. You scream behind his hand, but it's no good. You scream because you're afraid, angry, and heartbroken. You scream for your family, for the jewels, for your mother's dress now soiled in the dirt.
He abandons the satchel completely now, the one hand remaining over your mouth while the other closes around your neck. As the grip starts to tighten, you begin to panic. You leave the bag and try to get him to release you. But, being the town beauty, you are certainly not known for your strong physique.
You can't breathe at all now, and fighting is only making it worse. You're beginning to get dizzy. Your eyes focus on his face. His slick blonde hair now a little askew from the struggle. His eyes intense with loath and not an inkling of regret to be found. This was the man you gave your heart to. This was the man you were ready to elope for, the man whom you wanted to call 'husband'. You've given him your family's riches and heirlooms…and soon your own life in defending them.
The tears flow freely down your face now, but he doesn't lessen his hold on your throat. You're dying. But how can you die? You're young and beautiful. A young and beautiful fool. But what about your parents? How will they find you? How will they give you a proper burial?
A blackness starts to fill your vision. You die looking into his betraying eyes.