March 20, 1893
A sieve of delightful memory is not to be purged on the weaknesses only the evil possess--for if I purged away these memories, confided in these downtrodden souls the secrets of a broken martyr, of corsets undrawn by the fancy of a man, of arsenic-imbibing champagne, they would find the one bitter weak spot in my iron shield. My mother, or rather my mother's death--the one memory I dare not purge, but maintain in my mind as the one truth they cannot bereave me of...the key to my freedom, the key to the sanity they say I've none of. I can recall every distinct detail--the black velvet of the placid night sky with stars chiseling the curtain's countenance, the dim light of the dampened moon, squandered not by the rain--the night of my seventeenth birthday, the night of my concealment--the night of two lives possessed by a hand they never held. March 17, 1893--the annual primary meeting of the Ladies' Auxiliary. If I've no true person to confide in, my dearest diary, you shall be the core of my memory--and with these consecrations, this night will be your own--as shall my sanity.
Raven strands of hair cascaded down my back as my mother fervently brushed the tendrils within an inch of their life, as I gently whimpered--apparently the incorrect gesture. As her only daughter, I was expected to know beauty came at a price--and even if I paid it with my life, it was worth it. My future was worth it.
"Hush, love. However do you expect Edmund to notice how you've blossomed tonight if you are not perfection? I am sure he would not wish to dance with a woman--no matter how lovely she is--if her posture slouches far more than even his own. No man wants an oaf for the lady of his house," she chided me softly as she pushed my shoulders back against the chair to give her a better vantage point of concealing all of my imperfections.
"Mother, I don't even know if I truly love Edmund--or that I'd desire him to court me," I muttered underneath my breath.
Edmund Stilton was Alice Cunningham's--the leader of the Ladies' Auxiliary--orphaned nephew and whilst he was a charmingly handsome man--with piercing blue eyes and light brown hair properly swept back to highlight his boyish charm--I thought his intentions to be insincere. He seemed too sure of his status and knew nothing of the world outside of London, knew nothing besides banking statements and brandishing hunting muskets--a man's man but not the knowledgeable gentleman I coveted.
"He's the most delightful man in all of London--and you mustn't tell your father or anyone I spoke of such tawdry matters--but your father tells me the young man's business profits about 40,000 a year," she stated plainly as she grasped my corset, sheathing it tightly up my restrained body, until I could barely breathe in minor gasps.
"I...know...mother..." I groaned in between gasps and yanks of my full corset.
In response, she merely grasped once more as I was laced properly, and then, she trudged off in search of her next torture device. I exhaled sharply, unsure what to think of myself as I glimpsed in the full-body mirror.
I was woman--redefined, with the purity of a small child but the knowledge of a scholar undefined by our society--with luscious curves sheathed beneath luxurious lavendar silk that clung heavenly to my flesh but completely covered all parts of my body--from my chest to my ankles.
My unexpected revelry ended as I glanced towards the grandfather clock in the center of my chambers, then I groaned as I realized it was 5:00 in the afternoon, merely an hour away from the meeting, an hour away from waltzes promised to Edmund--who loved swaying me around on his arms, as if I were his most beloved, ostentatious adornment--and watching my mother kneel down to every single one of Alice Cunningham's demands, just to secure my betrothal to Edmund and to upheave her own social status. If anyone held the key to any power, Alice Cunningham--although she allowed her husband the mere pretense of domination--was the entity of everything this town supposedly stood for--she knew all too well that force was needed to break through the barriers and to conquer, to succeed, to manipulate any given situation in order to gain your desires.
