Her sleep had been a series of fits and slow starts, all throughout the week, keeping her awake at the oddest hours or waking her up in the middle of the night. Nightmares assaulted her, leaving her awake in a cold sweat, too frightened to sleep lest they come upon her again. She could barely remember them, though she was left with a feeling of loss afterwards, like something precious had been snatched from her at the last moment. It usually started with her lost in the woods, much as she had been that very night, walking through the mist in a daze. She was unable to remember any more, as doing so gave her quite the headache, so she tried putting it out of her mind as best she was able. It was no use however, as they trailed her through her waking hours.
She attempted to recall them as best she could, drawing pieces and fragments here and there when she had time, but it was to no avail. The papers were often left crumpled on the floor or ripped to shreds, her frustrations taking hold of her at last before she tried to sleep again, much to the same result. She was often consumed with thoughts of the dreams during her waking hours and what they could possibly mean, if only to make the nightmares go away and leave her in peace.
Of course, her parents and the townsfolk around her began to notice her strange behavior. As the days turned to a week, she found herself seldom leaving the house, unless it was to sneak out after one of her more horrible nightmares. She often found it was easier to sketch them during this time, when the fragments were still fresh in her consciousness. Still, she was left with vague images and dark shadows, her waking mind left questioning just what her imagination was thinking up. She hid these works, as she understood that if anyone came upon them her sanity might be taken into question. She was already seen as an outlier by the rest of the village, now more than ever, and this would simply be another strike against her. She would rather not have that happen, though the nightmares continued to plague her, leaving her bereft of sleep and body weary. Her eyes began to develop bags under them from the stress, and her parents looked at her as if she was possessed. It was during one of these days that her suitor once again had the horrible timing of coming around again, probably to pester her with his 'endearments'.
She was honestly tired of him at this point, hearing his earnest knock at the front door, easily able to from her room. She sighed, listening to her parents greet the man with such good cheer. She felt anything but happiness as she quickly once again hid the sketchings she was working on, before he could find them and berate her as he usually did. She tried her best to seem cordial as he came into her room, though she was currently feeling anything but.
"Hmm...?"
She blinked in his direction, confusion clear in her gaze. When had he moved to come beside her? The young woman shuddered as she felt a hand around her shoulder. She wasn't sure, only that something in the back of her mind told her that something was amiss. He wasn't usually this way with her, more used to his harsh barks and sharp touch as of late. Had something come over him, she wondered? Maybe, quite possibly, he had regret his behavior from earlier, she dared to hope. She only knew for sure that her gut feeling told her to be on guard.
"I am simply concerned for your health. You have been acting out of sorts lately; ever since our...disagreement. Your parents are worried as well. They also suggested it best for you to come with me."
Are you really? Or are you simply acting the part to save face? She thought, staring at his offered hand with a frown. He was partially right; she hadn't been feeling well the past week. Ever since she had woken up in her bed, to the concerned yet angry faces of her parents, on the day that he had hit her...something inside of her had felt amiss.
She didn't really love him, this man who she was set to marry. Before the incident, she had been resigned to the idea—though still inwardly opposed—knowing it would make her parents happy, and understanding that she really had no true say in the matter. Who else would provide for her, after all, when her parents passed away? But now, she wanted less than nothing to do with this man, who had treated her so cruelly and told her her dreams were worth nothing at all. No, to subject herself to that kind of life, even for her parents sake, was unthinkable to her now. She was not sure why she had even considered the thought. Maybe...maybe if he hadn't shown her his true feelings, using the veneer he wore now to keep up appearances, she might have went through with it. And ruined her chance at happiness, she knew now.
Still, she took his hand, knowing that to not do so would make him simply become more insistent in his efforts; something she neither had the desire nor energy to fight off at the moment. It was with a heavy heart that she followed after him, once more abandoning her work as he lead her out of her room and into the entranceway beyond. She noticed her parents then as they approached the open door, staring at her worriedly and felt a surge of guilt rise up in her stomach then. She hoped she hadn't become too much trouble for them; she knew she was difficult to deal with as it was, and that these recent matters had only made things worse for them. Maybe if she went along with this, it would temper their worries somewhat—at least that was what she prayed would happen.
It only took him a moment to escort her out of the house, where she noticed several other villagers following them on their trek. They went far, past the village square and along the path that led to the church. This worried her, as the church was often used for meetings and other important things, when it wasn't being held for worship. She was led inside, the door closed behind her as they began to surround her, her suitor at the front of it all. She swore she saw something at the edge of her vision, a blur in the opaque stained glass windows that lit up the room. A figure, almost humanoid in appearance. But she had little time to reflect on it, as the villagers began bombarding her with questions and accusations. What she remembered from the incident, any spotty patches in her memory. Her suitor was at the forefront of most of these enquiries, berating her every time for running off, anger clear in his chiseled face.
Her memory was faint—which she admitted to the men—but she recalled the sensation of being held by something, and it was not him. She was able to notice him running off, before her consciousness had fully left her, yelling at the thing that had scared them out of their wits to simply take her and be done with it. Whatever had held her was hard, yet oddly warm, cradling her petite body with gentle care. Something she doubted he was capable of. He never really treated her with the amount of respect she felt she deserved whenever they went out, today included.
"None of you came upon her in the woods? Not a one?"
The villagers nodded, which made her even more confused and worried. Then what had she felt in her dream? Whose hand had so carefully caressed her face, her tangled hair? She wasn't sure now, and the thought made her heart race with excitement and a touch of fear. Had something come to spirit her away in the woods that night? If it was a spirit, then why return her home, if that was the case? She was confused, and barely heard his next accusation until he was right up in her face, finger pointing at her nose.
"The last thing you remember is fainting?"
"I...I...Well, yes. I heard that—awful noise, watched you...run off, and everything—went black."
He seemed to stiffen at her answer, face blanching as he moved away from her to once again be in the crowd. Yet his accusations continued, voice harsh as he regarded her once more.
"You were brought back by the spirits that haunt those woods!"
She couldn't deny that claim. Not that they would take her word for it if she did. She wondered if it was partially because she had let it slip of his cowardice. He was a vain man, from what interactions they had together. Always wanting to be addressed by his full title, constantly reminding her of her status as a low born commoner. How lucky she was to have been chosen by him; she certainly didn't feel it now. Why had he chosen her, she wondered most of the time she was alone? Simply for him to have someone he could constantly berate and put down?
She was a troublemaker; at least in their eyes. So she simply sat there, letting their baseless accusations stand, though she did try to convince them otherwise before she grew tired of it all.
"I'm not—"
"You simply need listen—"
Each time she was cut off, each time by one of the villagers who surrounded her. She stared dismally at her feet then, spirit now eroded completely as all of them continued their diatribe against her. Finally when it seemed to be over, they did bring out an older gentleman who was dressed in what she could only assume was an outfit of the clergy. The man simply walked around her, though he did look into her eyes once or twice, gaze piercing her as he did so.
"Quite the rebellious one, aren't you child? It's possible she is possessed by something; it's too early to tell. It might be best to watch her, in case she acts up again."
"You see nothing? But you say the signs are possibly there?"
Her suitor barks out, which have started her if she had the energy for it. Then again, the nobles and clergy were oft intertwined. He probably had more experience with men such as these, so he was more lax around them than most folk. It was the only way she could describe his brazen attitude towards the old man.
"Simply just a tired young woman. And you say you were accosted by spirits, young man? What about you?"
"Are you suggesting I'm the one who has been possessed? Nonsense! Someone get this old fool out of here; he's a heretic!"
Her suitor and a couple of the other villagers seemed anxious. They argued with the man for some time, yet he simply stood his ground, telling them over and over she was just tired. And that this was a product of that and her overactive imagination. But, they could not go against the man's word, lest they look like the fool. Soon enough, they relented in their accusations, dispersing as quickly as they had assembled. With that she found herself being dragged once again, by her suitors rough hand as he lead her back home, which gave her some time to gather her thoughts.
She was grateful for that small reprieve at least.
She was lucky, she supposed, that the holy man they had sent in hadn't really seen anything wrong with her. Just tired, he told them, and in need of a good few nights sleep. Maybe with a handful of passages from the book, to supplement the teachings so they stick in her mind. She should be kept on a watch during the day, and some nights, just to be safe. And to draw less, lest her overactive imagination stir things up again. She was disappointed at the sentence but at least she wasn't being committed. She thanked herself for that small mercy. She would simply bide her time, as best she was able. She felt restless cooped in the house as she was.
It wasn't long before she found herself at the front door of her home, the sun soon edging over the horizon to give everything an orange glow. It must have taken them some time to interrogate her, she realized, as it had been close to midday went they set out. She half listened, in a daze of sorts, as he told them of what had transpired in the town church. Then he left her, as quickly as he had came, but not before her parents began to berate her once again. How foolish she was to go off into the woods alone, how lucky she was that the holy man had let her off; things she had all heard before. This time they just simply at a much higher volume. Her parents followed her up to her room, which distressed and confused her, but not before she understood what was happening. She nearly yelled aloud as she watched him rifle through her belongings, the man yelling as her mother watched helplessly in the background. She didn't blame the poor woman, understanding what happened when her father became angry.
"Enough of this! You are ruining everything! Damn these papers; 'creativity', pffft!"
"F-father! W-why…"
A cry escaped her lips as her father found her drawings—thankfully not all of them—and began to rip them to pieces. All of her hard work, scattering before her eyes, and she could do nothing about it. It hurt, to see them disregarded so; it pained her so much that she felt her chest might burst!
"You...stay in your room and do not leave it! We will discuss things in the morning, once I am of a clearer mind."
After they left, taking her drawing implements with them—along with other things she had used to occupy her time—she simply stood there for a few moments, shocked and stunned into silence. So this was to be her life now? Stuck in her room as she was, unable to do anything but study and to marry a man whom she hated with all her being? It was unfair, she mentally protested, completely unfair! The young woman quietly walked over to her bed then, ignoring the small droplets of tears that fell from her eyes as she buried her face into her pillow. She wanted to look at the bright side of things, but she simply could not. So she lay there, sobbing quietly so as not to disturb anyone—it was not as if they would care for her plight!
Little did she know of the one 'person' who did care, his thin frame leaning against the outside of the house worriedly…
He felt his rib cage shake as he heard her sob, the pitiful noises reaching him from where he hid. After being unable to see most of what was going on, Jack had simply decided to continue his observations, following the pair after they had gone home, worried as he was for the poor woman's sake. He was partially glad he had now, for he knew things had been worse than he had hoped. The other part of him was distraught, hearing her cries in the night, his chest tightening as he heard her voice softly speak.
"I think I'd rather be haunted than have to deal with that insufferable man...Hes ruining everything, damn him! All because he sees me as something to own. Hahaha, maybe it was a guardian spirit of sorts, since it chased that awful fool away? Oh, part of me wishes it had stolen me away from here! Maybe death would be better than this wretched existence!"
She laughed dismally at that, which made him slightly confused; what exactly was funny about this? Yet he couldn't deny the stirrings in his lanky frame; making his phantom heart stirr against his rib cage. This was certainly no better than hearing her wretched sobs from earlier, and he still felt concerned for her. She sighed then, a wistful noise that was soon overtaken by the sound of shuffling, then by the soft sounds of breathing. She had fallen asleep—hopefully without nightmares this time. He waited to make sure, though he heard her shuffle about in her sheets every so often, before he too left the young woman to sleep fitfully, concern blossoming once again in his chest as he went...
Thinking she was safe enough, at least for the time being, the skeleton once again diverted his attention from her to focus on the townsfolk and other inhabitants. Still, his mind was buzzing with ideas, the last few words she had uttered swimming around in his mind over the next few days as he went on his rounds of the place.
A guardian spirit? He really wasn't sure what the young woman was talking about. She seemed content with the idea however; and it was not like he could simply tell her otherwise. Trying to catch her attention now—at all, really—was not a good idea. Humans were wary when it came to demons and ghosts, the tales they told often depicting them in a harsh light. He really didn't want to drive her away.
Though he was conflicted; how was she doing lately? Well enough, he hoped, after that interaction he last witnessed. He had few times to check up on her as it was, though he received a general idea from what he heard amongst the townsfolk. She was kept locked in her house, more than before, and he rarely heard or saw her. Though he did manage to notice her sneak out once or twice, usually in the middle of the night, using the window from her room as an escape route. She never went far on such nights, thankfully where he could watch her from his perch as a scarecrow, and simply sat for a while. Or looked at the scenery before her, probably with the same intent as he often had; to drum up new ideas and thoughts, become lost inside her own mind, as he sometimes did.
Rumors really were being made quite easily about the poor girl and her family; he was worried as to why things had seemed to get worse, not better, after the holy man had arrived. And he wasn't sure what to think of it. The townsfolk avoided her in equal measure, giving her the same harsh looks and glares as before, maybe more so since the priests intervention. Were they still worried she unearthed something when she had went into the woods? Did a spirit decide to follow her home, enticed by her strange aura and mannerisms?
Well, he wouldn't say enticed; curious was probably a better way to describe how he felt about the young woman. She seemed a tad stubborn, though it was hard to notice underneath her shy exterior, and he admired her. She had a hidden passion and drive, squashed though it was, which was more he could say for his pathetic self recently. He really hoped things went well for her, not for any 'feelings' he might have had, but because it was simply the right thing to do. At least, he wasn't sure if he had any feelings toward the young woman. He barely knew her—even though he had watched over her for the last week or so, yet felt oddly protective over her. Possibly because the whole ordeal was partially his own fault, escalating things in his foolish attempt to help as he had done. So maybe he did have 'feelings' for her; what exactly they were he couldn't say, but he couldn't just leave her be!
He was dreadfully worried as to what was happening with her, too. So when he saw her one night, from his vantage point in the field nearby, her eyes stained with tears and clothing ruffled and messy with straw, he knew something was quite wrong...
