A/N:Ok!This chapter is dedicated to Oda, as she is the only one who reviewed... :( come on people please review! It really will get exciting. I'll start writing the next chapter now,and seriously, just writing 3 words is enough too for me.:) Please!!!!!
The room was silent. The trunks and suitcases lay neatly packed up with my attire and belongings within, on the far side of my room. My bed was made up crisply. I could hear the swallows and bluebirds outside my window, despite it being closed. My desk drawers were emptied clean and no held nothing but house dust. I ran my palm along the top of my smooth wooden desk; I didn't want to leave!
A loud double knock sounded at my doors and the echo flew throughout my room, sounding so out of place in the ominous silence. The doors opened and creaked loudly, Hannah came in and, along with Greta, started to heave my trunk off the ground. I was going to motion for them to leave it. It was a job for one of the doormen, but I thought better of it. They had been insistent on doing so. I knew that I would miss them as much as they would miss me. I'd grown up with them. They were as much my sisters as Rita and Anneliese were.
I looked into my mirror and saw a ashen-looking figure stare back. I had the face of a girl whose death sentence had just been announced. In a way, yes, I was going to die. The trip to Italy would take nearly 3 weeks, and none of my family was to accompany me. I hadn't understood why at first. But now, everything was so perfectly crystal clear. My mother didn't want me around here any longer; and rather than waste time biding the days until I could be of a respectable social age to marry some rich gentleman, she'd decided that I should be sent far, far, far, away to someplace where people spoke a language I couldn't and ate spaghetti all the time. And marry some nobody of a class lower than me, one of the working-class gentry. She must have been desperate to rid me from her life.
I shut my eyes and waited for those irritating tears of mine to flee. I wouldn't show them how weak I really was. I had to be strong. Or I would die right here, right now. Gold eyes. Perfect smile. Heavenly voice. I'd think of the only thing left which could give me any hope whatsoever. We were dancing once again, in perfect rhythm to the music. My feet were light for once and I couldn't have been happier...spinning and twirling; floating on the wind...
"Miss?" The vision of bliss vanished sadly. Hannah was staring at me; I could see the obvious look of sympathy and sadness in her eyes. I reached out and hugged her.
"I'll miss you, Hannah." I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"I'll miss you too, Suzette." She whispered back, and we stood there for awhile; I thought back to when I was a small child. No playmates for me; I was too boisterous and tomboyish. The park was empty, except for a girl my age-dressed in rags-on a bench.
"Hi, I'm Suzette!" I'd been quick to introduce myself to her when my governess turned her back for a few seconds to nap. Hannah had given me a wary look but had mumbled her name anyways. I wanted to play. She wanted something to eat. I ran off to a concessionaire nearby. I came back with a container of dried raisin biscuits. She ate them; we chatted. I found out she was an orphan and she had just been kicked out of her uncle's home; he had never been kind to her in the first place.
I had the most brilliant idea ever. She could come home with me and be my playmate. I remember how her eyes shone with hope when I'd said it. I begged my irate governess, who had been flustered enough with my antics for the day. She finally agreed when I threatened to tell that she'd napped and I'd gone off to a store alone while she'd done so. My mother had been...less than amused.
"Dear me, what do I do with you, Suzette?" She'd breathed out in a sigh. She swept a careful glance over timid-looking Hannah, and shook her head.
"Suzette, I don't know what I should do with her..." I cut in. "She's my friend! She'll be my playmate! Then, you won't have to keep looking for one!" I'd been utterly naive, yes, but it worked. My mother did agree. Later, when I had to leave for finishing school, Hannah became a lady's maid to my mother, until I came back.
The memories slipped away and I was back in my room once again. Hannah was sobbing; I knew I was too. Greta came inside, and joined us. She'd been taken in as my playmate too; sometime after Hannah had been; and she'd been begging for food from house to house before that. We were indebted to each other. Them to me, and I to them. They were the true friends I'd never found, in the cacaphony of society.
"I will miss you both, so, so much." I said, between sobs. They both nodded and I promised to write letters as often as possible; as if there'd be anything else to do, I'd added jokingly. This made them smile a bit and we walked out of my room together. I gave a short backward glance at my room before the doors were closed and memorized in minute detail what I could see: my neatly made-up bedspread, my upholstered seat, my oak solid desk, my looming bedroom doors. And then, the door closed. The light in the hallway evaporated into the shadows.
"Suzette, please behave for once when you arrive, and greet Mr.Walsh properly." My mother's voice struck me. It wasn't unfeeling today. It was genuinely pleading and morose. I looked at her, my eyes wide. She'd never spoken to me like this before.
"The country is different from London, especially in Italy. But Mr.Walsh and his son live comfortably in a manor surrounded by fruit orchards. Don't wander off and stay on the land at all times. We shall meet with you in a month's time." She sounded endearing for once.
"Do not worry, Suzette. Mr.Walsh is a jovial fellow and he lived in India before he settled in Italy. He will make you feel welcome, and his son should be just the same." My ears caught on only one word: should.
"What do you mean 'should'?" I demanded, cutting into my mother's final words of parental advice. She twisted her head slightly and then, completely disregarding my question, continued on about do's and don'ts. I was getting married; why did I still need her to tell me what to do?
Eventually, she finished. I hugged my mother and sisters goodbye. My father was nowhere to be seen. I tried not to let that bother me too much. I saw our housekeeper break into a crying fit when the carriage started to pull away. I waved until I could see the house no more. I imprinted all their faces in my mind: Hannah and Greta's forlorn ones, my sisters' subdued sad ones, my mother's first warm look in years, the servants;whose expressions were mixed between indifference and puffy-eyed stares. It was all the more saddening though; because I didn't have my father's face in my memory. Before this, he'd already been like a ghost to me. Now, he didn't exist at all.
I turned my head, and ignoring what was left of my last chance to see the city of London, cried my heart out into the seat of the carriage. The carriage ride eventually became bumpier, as the cobblestones and tar had been replaced with open dirt. Every once in awhile, I stumbled upon myself or was flung mercilessly to the sides of the old thing.
The night soon came and we had to stop at a inn, somewhere near a remote town on the outskirts. The rest of the days followed in the same manner; we left before dawn and stopped at dusk. The countryside became much, more prevalent. After 5 days of non-stop driving, I started being able to smell the seaside whiff in the air. We reached the port the next day. The driver unloaded my luggage and I bought a ticket to France. I'd be boarding a steamer in the late afternoon. The driver stayed with me until then and saw me off. Obviously, none other than my dear mother who'd instructed him to do so.
I was fairly excited to be on a steamer and the trip was quicker than I'd thought it to be. Strangely, while I'd been on the steamer, I'd started to view this marriage as an escape;not a death sentence or loss of my youth. I was traveling alone until I reached France's shores. I became a slight bit more adventurous than I should have been and sneaked into the lower-class quarters one night; there was a party going on. I just wanted to see what it was like. Little did I know, someone I knew was there as well. Someone who had gold eyes.