Choice And Consequence

CHAPTER 1

LISTEN TO:
Liability - Lorde
Lovely - Billie Eilish, Khalid

***

If only something would happen, something new, something worth looking forward to, Madelaine wished rebelliously, dragging her sore feet across the convent grounds.

If the Sisters knew of her wayward thoughts, Madelaine would be punished by cleaning the bathrooms again, but as she had undoubtedly already earned herself a scolding by skipping maths, she might as well keep piling on her sins.

Her hair was another injustice. She despised her long straightened locks, but whenever she pleaded to have it cut, the Sisters reminded her that her father hadn't given his permission. 

The Nuns knew more about her father's wishes than she did herself, Madelaine reflected bitterly. She hadn't seen him in years. 

As time passed by, Madelaine accepted the reality of her situation, that her father intended to keep her within the walls of the convent for the rest of her life, as the birthday cards stopped being delivered after her 10th birthday.

Most of the girls in her class had already left, free to enjoy the liberties of the world, swept away by their families. Some further continuing on their studies at exclusive schools, others being committed into carefully arranged marriages chosen by their parents.

She always wondered what it would be like to have a welcoming home, to have a father that truly cared about her. As a younger girl, Madelaine fantasised about the day her father would come to collect her, who would tell her how proud he is, and how proud her mother would be. But her mother was beyond this life, a distant memory, a vague imagination.

Madelaine realised that fantasies are meant for little children. She had to grow up and realise it was pointless dreaming about such things.

The convent wasn't simply a school in the ordinary sense. Most of the girls came from wealthy and entitled families, knowing that the strictly enforced regime and stern moral attitudes would prepare their daughters and produce young women the French described approvingly as bien élevée.

Her innocence, both mentally and physically, was what they tried to protect. But Madelaine was aware that a far different world existed outside the convent walls from what she had been taught.

She envied the girls whose scandalous conversations echoed around their bedroom during the dark hours of the night; girls whose parents were not quite as... insouciant as her own father.

They would all gather round in a circle, the single flame of a candle illuminating their faces, and share stories about their holidays abroad. 

Some would get too tired and return to the comfort of their beds, but Madelaine stayed. Every night, she listened intently to the hushed whispers, telling her about how their mothers took them shopping through the streets of Paris, and the taste of trademark wine at dinner lingering on their tongue. 

The more she listened, the more she grew frustrated and angry, that she would never be able to experience any of these luxuries of her own.

***

The weather was the kind that feels like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat of noon time in August.

Feeling the refreshing breeze brush across her cheek, Madelaine closed her eyes so she could focus on the sounds of birds chirping and the leaves rustling.

She opened her eyes and let the daylight flood back in, bringing the early April day back onto focus. From the distance, she could see the silhouette of a girl as she made her way down the concrete path.