Fences

3 1 0
                                    

The wind passed right through her as she faced the forest's side from their fences. She imagined everything she read into life. War inside those deep forest, the rangers standing on their feet-not fearing the darkness.

"Ms. Sara!" a man called from a meter away, he wore his bow tie and coat. Vienne looked back and smiled sweetly.

She took her last glance from the forest, removing the imaginations she made there. "Good evening, Sir Anton." she said as she closed up with him.

"My dear," he started. "Your father is very furious, you should have prepared a while ago."

"I was reading," she reasoned. Then she remembered the beautiful sun going to sleep. She remembered the encounter. Interesting, she thought.

"Yes, right. Come now, I'll have Matilda change you now."

***

"Is it always like that, Matilda?" Vienne asked as Matilda did her hair. It was curled and some strands were braided.

"What 'like that' Ms. Sara?"

She looked up to Matilda. "Those kind of old traditions, men being superior. In making decisions, it is theirs only? Like you never had a chance to give a say?"

Matilda continued braiding some more strands. "Families have different traditions, Ms. Sara."

"What I mean is that, do you agree to the idea of this tradition?" Vienne insisted.

Matilda stopped for a while. "I think, Ms. Sara, it is fine as long as it's for your own good. There all done."

Vienne stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She wore the white collared lace dress which made her look like a fairy because of the way her hair was fixed. She didn't wore any heavy make-ups so when she frowned, there was no way of hiding it. She thought, but what if it turns out to be bad after, is it still for my own good?

She walked out of her room, went down the stairs like she's an angel brought back to earth. The only thing is, she didn't show the smile that she gave to him. That lovely and simple smile, showing that she was glad, during the sunset.

Down the stairs was her father, he was tall man and very respectable by the way he dressed. He kept on striding, back and fort, he only stopped as soon as he saw his daughter's silhouette.

"Vienne, what took you so long?" worry surfacing anger as he questioned her. "Anyway, he will also come this evening."

"Mr. Morgan?" Vienne assumed.

He nodded in understanding. "You must learn to call him Eric now. You'll be seeing each other a lot now." Vienne nodded.

In her eyes, she thought of the things that could happen-sweet moments with him, Eric, through the times when they will go out. But, she also thought of Bryle, the way he looked at the setting skies; the way his blonde locks suited his projections-it was full of simplicity.

As those thoughts in her head she began to compare the two of them. What if Eric couldn't understand the way she views life? But then, she thought of Bryle; she just knew him either. I guess my life is under the stake of destiny.

EnchantèWhere stories live. Discover now