Empty
She stands on a hillside where all her dreams were formed. The wind and the rain whirling around her swallowing her up like some unseen monster no one's heard approach. She cries his name into the storm where it is hushed by the thunder protesting her existence in its realm.
Her tears fade into the swirl of the raindrops mixing them so they become invisible. She stands there pleading with her heart not to feel, not to hurt, not to hope.
Blistered by his actions and condemned by his words she thinks of the silent stares and the quiet gossip that followed her here. In one breath he offered his heart and in another he asked for its return. Leaving her to wonder what she'd done wrong.
At a tender age she'd been swindled. Forced to believe in dreams and wishes and fairytales. No one mentioned falling tears and broken promises. No one mentioned shattered dreams and unspoken heartaches. No one mentioned love was a hit and miss game that no one really won.
Gazing down at the faded blue dress she wore, handed down from her sister. She knew the truth, plain and simple. She wasn't beautiful, she wasn't smart, she wasn't special, she simply, was.
Crying into the raindrops that somehow now seem comforting, she realizes life isn't always summer days and sunshine. Life is cruel and menacing, filled with rain storms and long cold winters and broken dreams left by the wayside.
No longer does she dream, because dreaming is for believers in lies and superstition. How sad to be so naïve. How sorry she felt for the ones who still waited for knights on white horses and castles in the mist. She knew better now, and now she could walk away smiling. Her head held high with pride, her feet on the ground and her future based in reality.
Let the fools have their fun, let them live in their fantasies and daydreams. One day they will see, one day they will understand, one day they will cry for what can never be. That day she wiped her tears, pulled the knife out of her back and forged on ward. This time it was her turn to walk away.
Closing her Journal Emma Tutwiler looks on at the massive ship docked before her. Those words, words inspired by her favorite book were so engraved in her soul that she forced herself to bite back a tear. She wondered what Jane Austen was thinking, feeling, when she wrote that scene in Sense and Sensibility. How close she was to the truth. How close Emma herself felt to that character.
"Well Marianne, I guess it's just you and me," she whispered under her breath as she tucked her journal away so it rested next to her copy of the book. "Time to forge onward."
AN: Okay this is a short introduction into my thoughts on Emma's feelings of inadequacy. This story takes place a couple of months before the students begin boarding the S.S. Tipton. I wanted to explore why Emma felt so jaded. And though the course of this story (which will be three chapters long) I'm hoping she may learn to let go and find love.
Please read and review! :)