The Book Of Jane, Chapter Two
May 5th, 1849
Jane is eleven years old
I woke up in a cold sweat.
Who was that? Me? But I was so young. Who was the other?
But unfortunately, like most dreams, that memory came and went.
I looked outside at our small plot of land. My brother's were tending the corn, although it was still dark. Farming. That was all they ever possibly did. Farming and women. Women and farming. What a boring existence that must be.
Except. My mind corrected. That is exactly the existence your parents have for you.
I shook that thought from my head. I was sick and tired of my parent's constantly talking to match makers, church goers, and wealthy son's that I could be wedded too. A husband for me that would put my parent's names on the map.
My parent's, I thought bitterly, I'd give anything to be rid of them.
It was true that my parent's were definently not the perfect couple one may picture in their head. In fact, they were no where near.
My Mother was a cold hearted women that was only interested in boosting her social life. Unfortunately, she was not a very attractive maiden. So she relied on gossiping and backstabbing to root her social career. It was no wonder she married my Father.
Father always was a cruel and arrogant man. Instead of talking with his mouth, he talked with his fists. He always had to have his way and if he didn't, he always had his gun handy.
Combine me into the equation, and it isn't a pretty picture.
"The only hope we have that you'll be any good in this world" My Mother so kindly put it. "That you marry a rich man and make handsome children. But you're as ugly as I, you have no luck."
Tears started to well in my eyes, but I quickly held them back. Tears were weakness, and I do know one thing. The world doesn't care for your petty misfortunes. You live and you die. And that's pretty much all there is to life.
And I knew she was right. I was too short and skinny. My black hair tangled easily. My eyes were a dull shade of brown. And a chest? Completely invisible.
So what man would want a tiny awkward me? No one. And I am expected to marry a rich man for my family. So we would lead happy, content lives, rich and plump. But clearly, that would be impossible for me.
"Jane, come here!" Mother called. Speak of the devil, and the devil shall call.
I ran downstairs, cringing as the old stairs groaned beneath the touch of my feet. Any day now someone will slip through...
"Jane Lawrence! If you don't come here in the next second I swear I'll-"
"Mother." I interrupted her as I entered the small kitchen. "I am here."
"I need you to stop at the bakery and buy me a loaf of bread. Here's some change."
Mother handed me a small brown bag filled with coins. I clutched the bag in my hand, feeling it's smooth edges and the roughness of the material.
"Make haste!" My Mother called, and I ran from the house and out into the road.
oOoOoOoOoO
I flew into the open road, wind caressing my hair as it trailed behind me like a flag. My feet were a blur contrasting with the dirt ridden ground. I saw a horse and carriage appear up the road. The man wore a suit and tie, and the woman wore a shimmering blue dress that I probablly couldn't even imagine in my dreams. I stopped to wave, but they never looked in my direction.
After some time, I finally arrived at the bakery. The bakery was a reddish, faded building, made of long aged brick. As I opened the door, I let the smell of pastries and yeast overwhelm me. I was long tired from my run, and I practically had to drag myself to the front of the store. Short of breath, I leaned over the counter.
"Are you okay dearie?"
I looked up into the eyes of an elderly woman, probablly nearing my Mother's age. She wore a kind smile that reflected her entire face. I trusted her implicitly.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I waved her off. Although she was only being polite, I wasn't one for conversation. She seemed to note this and nodded.
"What can I do for you today?" She finally asked.
"I would like one loaf of bread, please." I added the "please" as an afterthought, but this seemed to be good enough for the baker.
She nodded again, she didn't make an effort to run a conversation with me, and rummaged through the goods on the rack behind the counter.
"Here". She finally handed me a small paper bag.
I gave her a quick smile, and put the small pocket of money in her withered hand. I grabbed the bag, and ran.
oOoOoOoOoO
I pummeled into the open road, happy to be free of the baker. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy her company, I just disliked socializing with others.
I was too trapped in my own thoughts that I barely noticed the girl before me, standing with her friends. To my horror, I couldn't stop myself. I crashed into her and we both fell to the pavement.
She shook her head and finally I saw her face. I growled. I knew this girl much too well.
Jennifer Woodrow. She was the daughter of the richest man in town, and she liked to rub it in our faces. Since I was but the mere daughter of a poor farmer, she already disliked me. It didn't make our relationship better when I stood up to her remarks, unlike the other girls who stood like a wounded lamb in her presence. We loathed each other with a passion.
"Will if it isn't the ugly duckling, no sense of direction as usual I see." She sneered.
"If it isn't the snob, who's Daddy waits her on hand and foot. Too bad she hasn't done anything useful in her life." I retorted.
She simply glared, unable to come up with a comeback.
Then her eye's spied the paper bag I was clutching to her chest. "What's that?" She asked. One of her friends pushed me backwards while she grabbed the bread from my arms.
"Give that back!" I demanded, but her friends held me back.
Jennifer pulled the bread from the bag. She observed it for a second, turning it over and over in her hands. Then she did the unthinkable.
She threw the bread to the ground, and crushed it with her foot.
"No!" I screamed. Her friends laughed at my cries.
My Mother would kill me. That little beast had no idea what trouble I would be in when I went home.
Anger pulsed through my veins. I finally was able to free myself from their grasp.
"You little bitch! You'll regret what you just did!"
I was just about to punch her square in the face when I felt a throbbing pain in my back. I turned around and saw her biggest friend glare at me with her piggy eyes.
"I don't think so." She said, and tripped me.
My knee cut open on the ground. I examined the wound carefully, the blood ran pretty deep. I stared at them in horror as the group closed in on me, laughing. I couldn't escape.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to begin.
Then I heard a gasp, and a shrill scream.
I dared to open my eyes, and saw that the group was dissembling, running in opposite directions.
Before me, stood a boy. A handsome one at that, despite his clearly tattered clothing. He had carmel brown hair, and tan skin. I also noted that there was quite a different expression in his eyes. It was...mischief.
He was holding a gun.
I moved backwards, immediately afraid of him.
"I'm just a girl! Don't hurt me!" I begged.
He laughed.
"I won't hurt you." He said. "In fact I saved you. You should be grateful." He added.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Say, who are you anyways?"
He grinned.
"My name is Alexander. And you?" He held out his hand.
"Jane."
I reached out and grabbed his warm hand. He leaned forward like a gentleman and kissed the top of my hand. I could feel my blood rush to my cheeks in surprise.
"The pleasure is mine."
oOoOoOoOoO
