Night had fallen on this restful village. I didn't speak with my father for the duration of the evening. I opened the windowsill fully lighting my view with a candle. Not a soul was left on the stone walkways. Not even a field worker coming home from a long day outside. I packed my worldly possessions in a wicker basket not drawing too much suspicion. A different colour dress, plenty of undergarments, a silk nightgown from London and a few of my favourite books. Wuthering Heights, The Time Machine. A brand new book I purchased before we left London. The Turn of The Screw. I never mind the horror genre but the back promised a romance benefactor. So I clued in.

  For the first time in my almost 18 years, I was genuinely nervous. I found it odd, I wasn't nervous when the black death took my mother or ravaged England. However, Am I nervous to take this leap of faith? To save me from this abysmal forthcoming that will be my life? The marriage I never signed up for. Nor agreed to in the slightest. My father believed I would jump heels first for a man-child the likes of Arthur Thomas? It is out of the question. It's frankly laughable, as though the man who brought me into this world and raised me, does not have a clue of who I am. For what I stand for.

  I waited to hear the noise of my father's snores in the room next to me until I unclasped the lock of my window. Leaping out not to allow the hem of my dress to catch before shutting the window. My bare soles rode the bumps of the shingles to the edge of the rooftop. My scrawny fingers hooked onto the edge; dropping my body weight onto the side of the house. Each finger had a mind of its own, as though they were regretting my decision to leave. I need to go on my way, I cannot be subdued into a marriage I do not condone.

  My feet hit the grass behind the back of our home leading into the grain field. I stole a box of matches from my father's study and a lantern from the front door. Hiding its flame under my body to ignite the candle within. I began my journey heading into the grain field.

  ?───? ??? ?───?

  I hadn't had the slightest clue where I was going. I pondered on an array of topics on my walk into the darker parts of the forest ahead of me. Perhaps, if I climb to the top of the mountain I can tell where I should travel. A bird's eye view they call it. There could be another village to hide in. Sadly, in this modern age, it is customary to marry a young woman such as myself to the next chauvinistic pot-belly pig who bears wealth. If I believed in god more, I would ask him to let me live a life of solitude. A life where I am not burdened or pestered by man to bend my will to serve his. However, this isn't how life is. All who breathe must answer to someone. I hope after I am long gone from this earth that no woman may share my burdens. Any woman burdened to serve a master.

  My feet sunk into the earth's soil from the storm ahead of me. The mud which once felt warm under my feet has run cold. Climbing uphill was the only option until I found a more clear passage. In the trees and plant life alike, the thick brush held hidden traps in its wake. Branches snapping back at my arms and legs. Sharp bristles scarring my ankles. I knew this journey wouldn't be easy, but really? How much shit must I endure to reach paradise? I sighed a brief moment of relief upon a gravel road on my horizon. I sprinted through the heap of greenery not having care of my body signalling to my brain over the pain I was in. A strike of lightning lit up the dark of night warning me of the cliff at the end of the path. My toes grew to a halt as they curled onto the edge. Thank god. Once the light of the sky dissipated the rain's drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. My dress clung onto my body heavily dragging the soaked fabric alone in my strides. I ran to the side of the mountain to seek refuge from the storm's winds but it merely intensified. My hair was drenched from the top of my pinned do to my scalp. Every part of my body felt limp and frozen to my toes. I swore I should have worn my shoes into my basket. I did not dare open my basket, not allowing my belongings to become as damp as my body.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  The lightning began again with stronger force. Each white-like string lit up the night sky. The clash of thunder roared through my ears, the aftermath left a humming noise in my ears. My arm shook as with held my lantern in front of me to view the path curve along the rock of the mountain. I have been walking up this mountain for what I think was an hour. The night has become more dark in my journey. The greenery of the mountain seemed to turn sinister. The trees appeared the lightning struck them down the middle leaving charred remains. The little plants and flowers along the trail were decayed and shrivelled. Alone on the trail would frighten any man. To me it did quite frighten me, but, I was more frightened retreating to Media?. To go back in and allow my father to revel in my 'shame' of attempting to run away. I shall prove him wrong. Show them all.

  ?───? ??? ?───?

  My exhaustion has taken over me completely, and my feet drug across through the mud. I could not fathom if the rain or my exhaustion was filling my eyes with tears. My eyes were glazed over, the blindness I occurred made me have no clue of the fairly large vine beneath my feet. My foot caught it falling onto my stomach. An oof sound escaped my lungs. The bones of my corset made a crunching noise. I took it slow trying to regain my balance, breathing in when necessary. I instructed my father not to purchase me a corset without bone. Did he listen? No. If any of the bones crack they can puncture a lung or cause major internal bleeding. No possession of the devil here. Real serious problems. My lantern extinguished in mere seconds when my body hit the mud. My breaths were shallow holding my ribs to protect my internal organs. I finally reached the top of the mountain, cursing at the damned vine that met my demise. Wiping away my tears retrieving my basket, I peered up to see a light on the top of the mountain become more large. I trotted slowly making sure to watch my body under the broken bones woven in the corset.

  My god. People? Perhaps they can help. Hopefully.

  The light I was following like a desperate fly was attached to a shed. I held out my hands putting all the pressure which once was on my ribs, laid onto the door. The door opened reluctantly with a high-pitched wail. The creaking of the door hinges echoed in my ears. The aroma of the wooden shed was stale and smelt of old books. Thick films of dust coated every piece of gardening tool. Possibly, I may retire here until the rain dissipates. I shut the door behind me catching hold of a pair of hand rake to break the strings running down the back of my corset. My other hand held onto the dust-filled table to keep my balance. The rake tore away the strings as I let a sigh of relief over the tremendous pressure leaving my back.

  "God damn you...blasted corset...you are the epitome of my existence. Women everywhere for that matter." I tossed the cage that held my body out of my sight breathing in heavily. My fingertips felt that of ice on the undergarment on my ribs. None seem to be badly injured, perhaps bruised but nothing out of place. I knelt beside sacks of seed. The burlap was warm under my skin. The worst part of this journey was beginning. The cold shakes throughout my body. The clatter of my teeth, my arms wouldn't stop vibrating scratching my skin above the sack of seeds.

  After brief moments of my freezing body laying my damp head down, I hadn't had a clue when I fell asleep. It wasn't peaceful. It was unwarranted. Unwanted. As though something was telling me to get away. Crunches of branches with the crumpling of leaves rushed through the scenery surrounding the shed. The noise shot my body up.

  It's my father! He gathered a rally of men to bring me back! Or Sir Thomas has come to take me for his man-child son!

  My feet are buried in dirt wishing to be planted like a tree. Strong roots holding me down. Holding down my principles. The shed door flew open with a gust of wind taking the piece of wood off the hinges. A black figure stood tall in the door frame. I shot up to my feet.

  "Umm...hello. I apologize for intruding...I was awaiting for the rain to stop." The soaked strands of hair clumped on the side of my face that was slept on. The tall figure said not a word. A hand crept out what was their black cloth clutching the side of the doorframe.

  "Come with me. Now."