Meg Masters' term of confinement was now at an end. The Hell's gate was thrown open and she came forth into the sunlight, which, to her sick and morbid heart, seemed to serve no other purpose than to light the scarlet letter on her dress. Despite what happened before, Meg knew her true punishment began whit her first step over this threshold. No longer would she be concealed in the walls of the prison, but out before the world to see. With the letter.
That, and every step hereafter, would draw eyes to the letter. The young would be taught to look to her - who had once been pure like them - now as a symbol of sin. A demon walking amongst the holy as a living example of the fallen.
It may seem strange that she would elect to remain in the place of her condemnation when she was held there by no Puritan law. She was free to return to her birthplace, or any other European land. Once she left there would be no one to say she couldn't remove the forsaken letter. No one with the knowledge that her child was illegitimate.
But she would not flee.
Meg Masters was far too proud. She would live her sentence in front of those who had damned her to it. And in front of Crowley. She wanted to be a daily reminder to him that he didn't own the world, and he didn't own her.
Instead, she made her way to her home on the outskirts of town. Not so far as to cause exclusion, yet not near any other dwelling. An instant mystic shadow of suspicion invaded where the home sat. The foliage around it wasn't so thick as to conceal, but more to suggest it was a place that should be. Lonely was her dwelling, yet should Meg have chosen to live in the center of the hustle and bustle of the town she would have been no less alone.
With little means left hand her allowance from her "husband" having now mysteriously stopped, Meg was forced to find a way to support herself and her growing daughter. Although she had previously loathed the mundane task of needle work, she knew it would burn them all to wear a piece of her work. For while every woman and girl could sew, there were none in the colony who were particularly gifted. Meg spent days using her punishment to build skill with each red letter more elaborately embodied than the last. The next time she made her way into town she made certain to wear the most exquisite one, and they all stared, but she refused to let the heat of shame show; instead taking sick pride in the gawking.
Though the simplistic Puritan style made infrequent use of her new skill, the taste of the age called for it. She would toil away at deep ruffs and embodied gloves for the men of state. From the start of life to the end, baby linen, apparel for the dead in their coffin, and anything else for the time in between that was necessary, she would make.
I gave her satisfaction seeing those which cast her off as the scum of the earth wearing her designs. Almost as if she was sewing her letter into them. Touched by a sinner. Meg had been tempted more than once to sew a bright red letter onto other's garments, though not necessarily an 'A', but instead one to fit their sins.
Ever since the cursed thing had first been branded onto her breast an odd almost sixth sense had taken hold. It seemed as if she could see the sins of other's hearts written plainly on their faces. She could see liars, cheaters, even another adulteress and her lover. Apparently Ruby and Sam were just more careful than she had been.
Meg felt the bitterness creeping up in her heart. Why could these people live in such sin, and yet look down their noses at her? Hadn't they read the book they held so dear? "He who hath not sinned shall cast the first stone." None of these people could claim, yet they all threw metaphorical stones daily. It was times when she thought on this that she wanted to rip the scarlet symbol off her breast and yell to them all of their wrong-doings. Shove everyone into the light and onto the platform as she had been. To sneer at them all.
It was times like these when she locked herself away in her home and cursed the day she had set foot in the new world.
A/N: This chapter was really hard to write, and I think it shows. Meh, I still kind of like it though, I guess. Hope you all did! In the next chapter you guys get to find out who the daughter is. Any guesses?
Thank you to my one Guest reviewer whoever you are! (I'm really glad you think that about my story and I hope it continues to live up to that! )
A huge thank you to everyone still reading, and it would be awesome if you could please review!