Last Impressions

Morbid DramaQueen10

Yeah, this is short, again. Give me time, it's moving.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pride and Prejudice, any of it character, etc.

CLAIMER: The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10.

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"April 12th, 1794, Rosing, my room

Dear Diary,

Today is the day I meet my cousin, Fitzwilliam, whom Mama says I will one day marry. When I asked her why she said, "Because it is your destiny, Anne! You and Darcy will unite the fortune and nobility so that we shall be one strong line of royalty."

Everybody call Fitzwilliam 'Darcy', why I do not know. It is a nice name, but Fitzwilliam is so…. brave sounding I suppose.

Petra, the maid, says that Mama wants too get more money, and is a greedy sow. She does not know I know this, for I was listening why she was sweeping the main hall and hid behind a door. I often hear things like this from servants, but never tell Mama, or else she would fire Petra, or Turner, and I so do not want them to leave. I cannot tell Mrs. Jenkins either, for she would scold me and then tell Mama.

I hope I will like Fitzwilliam, for he will be here for a month and Mama expect us to play together. I hope he will understand why I can only play so little, and only quiet games. I see the village children playing out of doors all the time and they scream, run, get dirty, laugh, jump…everything that I cannot. Elsa say that it is fine that I cannot go out of doors, that I am smarter than the village boys and girls, and that indoors is just as fun. This is her only way to trying to cheer me, and it has thus far failed miserably. I might read, write and do needlepoint better than they, but my enjoyments are sorely lacking.

Ah, Mrs. Jenkins calls me! Adieu!

Yours,

Anne de Bourgh "

I slam the tiny book close. I was a fool back then. Stupid, idiotic, thinking the world was all good. That Mama cared only for me. That I would fall in love with my cousin, marry him, have children and everything would be glorious. How such dreams die.

15 years have past since I wrote this entry in my journal, and those dreams did not come true. The wedding day my mother picked pasted, and Darcy still did not propose. He came only once a year for a month, in the spring, and spent fewer time with me as each visit came. Promises were forgotten. Outings not taken. And my best friend forgot me. Now, what was left of our childhood games is just formal civility.

Mother pretends to not notice. She acted like at any moment Fitzwilliam would bust into out drawing room, ring in had an make and offer to me, right up until the day she revived his letter informing her of his happy engagement to Miss. Elizabeth Bennet.

While she and my lady raged no one noticed of my icy pain, like a hundred needles stabbing at once, all over my body. Being Lady Catherine's daughter, I cannot cry until I am alone in bed. But then I do not know whom to curse. My mother, Darcy, or Miss. Bennet.

Darcy was unofficially betrothed to myself; it had been planned since our births, only 3 year apart. Since childhood we were the best of friends, our teenage years in each other's confidence. He told me his dislike for George Wickham, and I described my wanting to explore the world.

It was the best relationship. But why did it have to end?

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I've saved my begging for the end of this chapter, since Chapter 1 was too short to get any review from. So now, I am on my knees, asking you to please, please, please review!

Or read one of my other Fan fictions! I have mostly oneshots, 2 CSI, 2 Artemis Fowls, and a Harry Potter. So, please. Be kind. Review.

That is all I ask.

MDQ