So, this story was placed on hiatus, along with another, a few years back now due to a lack of motivation/writer's block that occurred around that time things at home
were not going so well. My sincerest apologies to anyone who was actually enjoying/invested in this work. I understand that a lot of time has passed and it's unlikely there
will be any continuing interest, however I am determined to finish this.
I have learned from previous mistakes and will not be making promises about when the next chapter will be up etc. but I will endeavour to finish this as soon as I can.
I'm not sure how well this chapter has turned out, trying to get back in the right headspace to write these characters after so long was a little difficult!
If anyone does still wish to read - enjoy :) (I own nothing except the laptop this was typed on)
15
Watching the sun crest over the trees from her bedroom window, she sighs despondently, wishing, more than ever, that she were somewhere else. She knows that were she to voice her thoughts to others they would think her ungrateful and insensitive but, she cannot help being disappointed with her lot in life.
Although she has a big house, and people looking after her every need Sybil doesn't have the one thing her heart has always desired: freedom.
Ever since she was a tiny girl, Sybil has always dreamt of adventure and travel, of taking high-stake risks like some of her favourite fictional characters, but her reality (as much as she tries to inject life and vitality into it) is rather strict and mundane. At almost twelve years old she can already predict the course of her life, can already see the type of man she will be expected to marry, and she is already itching with boredom at the thought of what's to come.
Sybil is pulled from her musings by a gentle tap at her door and is delighted to welcome her eldest sister into her room. Mary has grown impossibly tall and slim over the last few years, leading to Sybil fearing a permanent crick in her neck from trying to look up at her. Her elder sister is the most beautiful person in the world, as far as Sybil is concerned, and also her best friend.
Mary is still in her plain white nightgown when she joins her sister on the padded window seat. The pair share a comfortable silence for a while, just watching the sunrise before Sybil really takes the time to take in her sister's appearance.
Mary's porcelain skin makes it difficult to hide the tired, grey circles under her eyes and Sybil doesn't even need to ask the cause of Mary's sleepless nights; it's a wonder the whole village can't hear their parents arguing about her impending marriage every waking hour of the day. Although the engagement has not officially been announced, it is common knowledge that Mary is intended to marry cousin Patrick. It is only slightly less known that Mary is not thrilled at the prospect.
Sybil has extremely mixed feelings about the impending marriage. On the one hand, she adores cousin Patrick and thinks that he would make anyone a kind, respectful husband. On the other hand, she feels that Mary deserves a little more than kind and respectful. And maybe, on a more selfish note, she's dreading the day when Mary has more important duties that stop her coming in to watch the sunrise with her younger sister.
She also knows that Edith is also vehemently against the match, but for vastly different reasons, and this has resulted in many a fight between the two elder Crawley girls. Over the past few months the relationship between Sybil's two older sisters has deteriorated further than ever before and Sybil is becoming increasingly worried that they will never be able to mend their bridges.
"Hey," Sybil is brought back to the present by Mary's hand gently cupping her chin, "what are you thinking about?"
Sybil can count on one hand the number of times she has lied to her sister; she does not enjoy lying to Mary, but she also hates the pained frown that etches itself onto her face whenever Patrick or marriage is mentioned, so Sybil feels that a little bending of the truth is really a kindness in this scenario.
"I was just thinking about where we should start on our tour of the world, you and me".
Mary's beatific smile is enough to assure Sybil that lying had been the right thing to do.
"And where, dear sister," starts Mary, in a laughing voice, "did you set your wonderful heart upon?"
"Well," Sybil says, excitedly, because she has actually given this a great deal of thought on many occasions, "I think we should start in Greece."
"Greece? What on earth would we be doing in Greece?"
Mary's lack of enthusiasm about history pertaining to anything other than the Crawley's estate is something Sybil sincerely longs to amend.
"Visiting temples, learning about the gods and goddesses and ancient Greek heroes, visiting Mount Olympus! Can you imagine how much fun we could have?"
"Bags of fun, I'm sure," answers Mary, with a sardonic smile.
Their conversation is cut short by another knock at the door. On Sybil's command a pretty face peeps around the door, blonde hair pulled back under a white cap.
"Thought I'd find you in here, M'Lady".
"Oh, Anna!" exclaims Sybil. "Do tell Mary how much fun we would have in Greece".
"Oh, I would love to visit Greece. I hear they have some of the most impressive statues and artwork, not to mention the food!"
"See!" cries Sybil, triumphantly. "Anna agrees; to Greece we shall fly!" she stands on the window seat at this, fist held high, making the two older girls laugh at her antics.
"How about we fly on down to breakfast first?" suggests Mary, as she follows Anna out of the room to get changed.
Sybil sits back on the window seat, a little dejectedly. She knows, of course, that her suggestion would never be taken seriously; travelling the world with just her sister, and maybe Anna, as company would be considered utterly preposterous, if it were even considered at all. Her every waking thought, however, has been filled with such fantasies since she could form a coherent thought. Travelling to new and exotic places, learning about other cultures and customs, filling her mind with fascinating histories and mythologies…was it really too much to ask for?
Sybil fears that such adventures are well and truly out of her reach. Her life is practically set in stone, and there is no room for anything out of the ordinary, anything exciting or heroic. In years gone by her imagination had been enough to pacify her, acting out her fantasies in games played with her sisters could quash those yearnings, at least for a little while. Now, though, her sisters are too old to play, and her imagination, she has come to realise, can only scratch the surface of what awaits her in the big wide world.
Sybil resumes her earlier occupation of staring out of the window. The sun is fully up now, shining brightly upon the grounds, making the grass appear impossibly green.
She watches as a sparrowhawk hovers above the tall grass near the far wall, it sways like a kite for several moments, perfectly intent upon whatever prey it has spotted below, before it swoops down like an arrow. It rises again seconds later and soars off into the sky.
She watches, jealously, as it becomes a speck in the distance; answerable to no one, free to travel, and hunt, and play as it pleases.
Sybil sighs again as she turns her back on the window, preparing to make herself presentable, already weary of the day stretching out before her. Maybe someday, she thinks; the tiniest scrap of hope still clinging to her heart.
