Prologue

2.3K 59 9
                                    

The Diary of Mr. Atwood.

Ashford, 29th June 1833

I have been away from Ashford for almost eight years, and in those eight years, it had seemed as if half of the town's population had vanished - going away to the big cities to find better jobs that would accommodate them better. I am one of those people. All that's left of Ashford are those who have had a good prospect to begin with, or the elderly, my dear Aunt Edith being the latter.

'It is in our blood that we shall return here, no matter how far we wander,' she would always say - a saying that will forever be ingrained in my mind.

To celebrate my return, my peers and I decided to head towards the coast, to get a closer glimpse at what I have been day dreaming about whenever my job in London gets tough and all I want to do is go back home.

As we were walking down the sandy path that leads straight down to the coast, the sight of the almost forgotten - but never forgiven - Myerscough Estate came into view, standing tall and proud, aged with grace but locked away from the rest of the world.

I asked Fitz - a friend of mine who owned a tailoring business and have stayed in town loyally, therefore knowing more about what was going on around here better than I do - about the estate, but he simply told me that the Earl had become a reclusive man over time, shutting himself and the estate from everyone.

This made me think of the only time I have ever met the Earl. It was at a ball in the estate, during the darkest days of my life, when I was no older than seven.

It had been almost a year since I lost my mother, and my father - consumed by grieve and guilt - had decided to leave me here in Ashford to the care of his sister, my dear Aunt Edith, as he worked overseas with a trading company all the way in the East. The last time I saw him back then was during my mother's funeral procession, and life for me as a child was a never ending misery and loneliness.

One day the Earl decided to throw a ball, the grandest that the town had ever seen, and the everyone was invited. Dear Aunt Edith and her friends were beyond thrilled, and when the day of the ball eventually arrived, everyone was dressed in their finest, including Aunt Edith and I.

We arrived on the brink of dusk, just as the candles were being lit up and everyone was starting to arrive. Looking at the beautiful carvings on the ceiling and the tall glass windows, I knew that this was a place fit for nobility. Was it an estate? A castle? A home? I did not know, and I still don't.

Aunt Edith was caught up with her peers, and soon their topic of conversation bored me to no end. Knowing that Aunt Edith would never allow me to wander off by myself, I snuck out of the ballroom, further away from the crowd until the sound of people conversing and the orchestra music became a distant noise, fading in the background.

My steps were followed by an echo, and with great curiosity I gazed at every painting that were hung on the walls, every tall windows that almost caused me to fall backwards trying to catch a glimpse of its end, and everything else that made this place a part of the word 'nobility' itself.

But soon my awe and wonder turned into worry as I struggled to find my way back. It seemed as if I went through the same hallways many times before, and just as I was about to yell for help, a faint sound of sobbing stopped me.

The source of the sound was a lady, who was sitting on a bench in the middle of the garden, hunched down and crying. She was dressed in the grandest gown, and her presence was magical, almost angelic. Even in her state of distraught she was beautiful, and as she looked up to meet my eye, I was convinced that it was my mother I was looking at.

In a swift move, she wiped the tears off of her face and smiled at me, motioning me to come closer, which I obeyed.

She asked me where my parents were, and I told her the truth. There was no point in lying to her, it was as if she could see right through me. She then asked several other questions about me, to which I replied honestly. Though instead of scolding me, she smiled and took me by the hand and led me back to the ballroom.

Before going back in, she bent down, held both of my hands, and told me the sweetest things. Although I cannot remember her exact words, I know that if it wasn't for what she had said that night, I would never have had the courage to keep going despite the burdens and hardships of life.

I never saw her again, and neither did anyone else. As time went by, she faded from everyone else's memories, everyone but mine.

And that was the last time the castle ever opened its door to the outside world. 


Once BeforeWhere stories live. Discover now