Prologue
(“We met when stars danced and rivers ran. It shouldn’t have been magical and yet. . .”)
Eliza quickened her pace.
The need to escape the vile 'things' that call themselves people, was unwavering.
She was done with this damn party and her damn sister.
Out of everyone at this party tonight it had been her twin sister who had hurt her the most.
Ever since they were children Eliza had spoken up for Emily. Eliza Had been the one solemn voice to address both their concerns.
She had spoken up to their parents, when it came to an unreasonably early bedtime. To the argument of snacks before dinner.
It had always been Eliza who stood up and spoke for both of them and yet. When Eliza needed her sister to defend her after she had spoken up about the ridiculousness of these parties, they were both forced to attend. Her sister had cowardly looked away. She had even sat there and smiled as their so-called friends had snickered and talked behind her back.
As if Emily were embarrassed by HER.
Ha, if anything Eliza should be the one embarrassed.
It wasn't Eliza who nervously chatted away every male that approached them.
It wasn’t Eliza who craved caption So bad that she would kiss anyone’s ass.
Was Emily so desperate to abandon her, for the likes of those brain dead women that called each other friends.
A stinging pain bloomed over her chest, at the thought of losing her sister.
Perhaps Eliza had lost her sister a long time ago?
Looking back at the dim glow of a building her friends and family had fallen all over themselves to enter. Eliza swipe away the stupid tears of anger, reliezing that the empty space between her and the building, showed her, just how little everyone cared about her.
Not her sister. . .or her chaperone had come looking for her.
She was alone.
Because of her unwillingness to hold her tongue when angry, and her need to speak her mind.
She was outcast.
What had once brought her parents laughter and smiles as a child. Was now what vexed them most about her.
Unladylike, and untrained. . . she had been called it all.
Had been told countless times that a woman should be an accent in the room. Only there to draw attention to her husband.
But how could any woman be happy with that life. To Eliza it sounded boring, gloomy even.
Yet Eliza felt as if she were the only one to see it that way.
Was Emily just better at faking delight at such a frivolous life.
Or maybe. . . maybe her sister wanted that life, perhaps she even enjoyed all the barely breathable dresses and painful shoes they where forced to put on for every ball.
Was Eliza being childish, like her backstabbing 'friends', said she was being?
...
No, it was them, not her.
It was all of their fault that Emily turned against her.
Out of breath Eliza tried to pull up her dress even more. But the tightness of her girdle and the heaviness of the fabric made it almost impossible to move any faster than two steps at a time.
Damn it! Her shoes were wet.
When had she walked to a river?
Dropping her dress Eliza looked down at the shallow stream as she watched her own reflection.
A crying girl who's hair was so missy that Eliza's chaperone would faint at the sight.
“You’ll catch your death like that.” A deep voice said from behind her. Turning, Eliza looked back to see a a tall dark figer walking tords her.
