Prologue
Snow.
When most people think of it, they tend to think of purity; innocence; happiness; a cleansing of sorts. They think of winter wonderlands and magical stolen kisses; Rosie cheeks and hot cocoa; Snowmen and snow angels. It's a time for the earth to be put to sleep so it can be renewed in the spring.
But that's not it at all.
Snow is harsh and bitterly cold. It is sharp, cutting and has no feeling. Its stark beauty encompasses its apathy with cold hard reality. There is nothing kind or fanciful about the forsaken beauty of the ice crystals.
The glistening white harsh glare reflects the sun's unfeeling light. Miles of white surrounds our manor, in vast emptiness as bitter wind stings my face. Even the wind mocks me. Has nothing any feelings at all?
How many times must we go through this? How many snow falls must I endure before it all ends? How many more empty repeated days until this endless cycle of an unforgiving life destroys me? Voices echo through the corridors, haunting me with the past. Night after night, faces taunt me with the evil of this place. I can't get any peace, even in my sleep.
How I long to join them… I wish to be free.
I just want it to go away. To end it all... But she won't let me. This is all her fault! Why can’t I stand up to her? Why can’t I free myself from this pain?
"It's almost time, Charlotte," my mother whispers as she glides up behind me.
Staring out over what will soon be a lush green garden is causing me slight anxiety, and a cold sweat to trickle down my neck. My chest tightens and my breath starts to come out in ragged puffs of frost. I'm getting dizzy and there is a ringing in my ears.
"Please, mother. Not again. My heart can't take it anymore. It's been a hundred years," I beg.
"And we will live forever. You just have to do what I say!" she commands.
Who said I wanted to live forever? And if it has to be forever with her, I’m even less inclined to survive this Spring.
A tear leaks out of my eye, and the cold almost instantly freezes it on my face. Why must we do this? We have lived long enough! I'm so lonely... No life is worth this much pain. I just want it to go away!
There is a darkness in me that no amount of snow will be able to cleanse! Nothing will be able to purify my soul from the deads of my past… And it wasn’t even my fault! It was all her!
"I won't do it again, Mother!" I state and turn away to leave Edith Simpson standing in her precious garden all alone.
But as I'm leaving, I hear her cackle, "You have no choice my dear."
I'm not really looking for someone to help promote my books at the moment. I am just writing for fun. thanks