The Loveless and the Forgotten Ones

Chapter one

"There's a story behind every person. There's a reason why they're the way they are. Think about that before you judge someone."

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Sweat trickled down my neck as I sat in the stifling room, warmed by the heat of mingling bodies. Surrounded by ladies and gentlemen all clothes in elegant attire, each one vying for my attention as music fills the air. A feeling of satisfaction fills me as yet another young man asks if he may have a dance. I politely refuse him, my feet hurting for the last dozen dances. Instead, I turn my attention to the young ladies sitting beside me. After conversing with them for a while I start to feel tired. I have had a week body since I was a kid. I make an excuse and say my goodbyes, so that I may go home and rest. I quickly make my way towards the door, where my carriage stands ready. I climb in and situate myself for the journey home.

Soon, the mansion is in sight. It's two pointed towers on either side of the door are the first thing I see, then the slightly lower pointed entryway. A beautiful garden lines the circular driveway into which we drive. We pass the fountain in the middle, also surrounded by blue, yellow, orange and pink flowers. Finally, the carriage stops in front of the huge, Spanish chestnut wood doors. The gravel crunches under my shoes as I step down from that horrible box of transportation.
"Send my maid to my room. I would like to change our of this gown," I tell the man who opened the door. He scurries off to execute my command. I make my way to my room, feeling the weight of exhaustion in my limbs. I arrive just in time to see the maid at the door. At first, I am a little surprised at who I see, recently my usual maid has fallen ill and a replacement has stepped in. Yet, here was the usual girl. I shake myself and walk past her into the room and wait for her assistance. She has fiery, copper red hair, making her bright blue eyes pop against her pale pinky skin. She is only a few inches shorter than I am. I assume she is around my age. I'm twenty, so my guess for her would be eighteen maybe? This same maid has attended me for years, yet I never bothered with her. She is just someone who is always there in the background. For a second, curiosity consumes me and I almost inquire for her name, but then I remember that it would reflect horribly on me in society to become friendly with a lowly maid. I push the curiosity down where it will hopefully vanish. In the silence, after preparing for bed, I realize that the feelings of joy, satisfaction, and companionship that I felt during the party have all vanished. In their place, there is nothing but a black abyss, in which I am drowning in a loneliness that not even the bright shining stars can pull me up from. Heaving a sigh of emptiness, I crawl under the covers and close my eyes, hoping to find some warmth inside my dreams.

Two figures clothed in fine garments stood in front of me. I was standing in complete blackness. I watched as the man and women slowly walked away, laughing as they went. I tried to run after them, but my feet wouldn't move. I wanted to scream at them to come back, but the only words that left my mouth were, "bye-bye Momma and Papa! Hope you have a good time!" No. That wasn't what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell them to stay. Don't ever leave me again, I knew they wouldn't be coming back. Cold hands engulf my shoulders, I looked up to see my plump old nurse maid, with dull brown hair and eyes. Her face was smiling and sweet as my parents left, but once they vanished, her face contorted into something vile. Suddenly, I was above the middle of a street, floating above a wreck. The cream colored carriage was smashed. Splintered wood lying everywhere. The gold insignia on the top was bent out of shape. The coach was lying there in a ditch, with my dead parents inside. Black began to seep into the edges of the scene until it engulfed me and pulled me under, silencing my pointless screams.

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Red fills the inside of my closed eyelids as the sun wakes me up. As I sit up and push back my satin green covers, I notice that the girl is already here and laying out several dresses for me to pick from. Sometimes I wonder how she does such a precise job of picking out dresses that I would like to wear. I assume that must be one of her talents as maid. I rise from the bed and make my way over to the bath, which had already been drawn. Once I have bathed and smell of lavender, I walk over to the dresses laid out on the luscious cream sofa. One is a light emerald green day dress, it has a large skirt and short sleeves. The other is a cerulean blue day dress, very similar in style to the green one, but this one has white lace detailing, while the green one has gold.  I decide to wear the blue one. The girl assists me, and once done, continues on to my hair and makeup. Ad she works it is very quiet. This happens very day so I have become accustom to it. Yet, in the silence, the memory I relived last night in my dreams keeps creeping back into my mind and I'm tempted to make conversation with her in order to get it out of my head. But I don't dare do it. Many women gossip to their maids, but that is entirely different from having a conversation, which makes the social status disappear. Finally, she finishes. I dismiss her and trot down to breakfast. Another morning of no conversation gone, and nightmares filling my thoughts.