Hey guys! This is the first story I'll be posting and I really would like, and need you criticism! Please let me know if it is good and what needs help. Thanks a bundle!
Hopelessly Romantic
Mixed Emotions
I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach that morning. I felt as though I couldn’t move, like some sort of poison had paralyzed my body in my few hours of sleep that night and it had taken full affect by morning. I knew exactly what that poison was too, betrothal.
Today was the day I was to meet the man I was to spend the rest of my life with. I was to marry him and bare his children and take care of his house. As I lay in bed, I went over every recent event that had led me to this day.
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When I was younger I always knew that my marriage was to be arranged for me by my parents, but that was all I knew.
My parents were horse breeders so I just spent my days in the stables talking to the horses. We lived far from any sign of civilization so I never had a chance to make friends with children my age, or any children for that matter. The animals were my friends, but I didn't mind. They were good company and extremely excellent listeners.
When I wasn't in the barn, hiding from my parents and a day of endless chores, I was in the apple orchard, reading a book, usually rereading my favorite "Pride and Prejudice". I loved to fall asleep under the shade of an apple tree and dream of a life of endless balls and magnificent parties, having not a care in the world; I had no idea as to what was really in store for me.
Two weeks ago I woke with the same feeling in my stomach that I had this morning, but I just simply ignored it and went on to do my morning chores.
When I was called in for breakfast, my father wasn’t at the breakfast table, already half way done with his meal, as he normally would be, but I didn’t think much about it. I thought that I had just made it to the house faster than he, but after I had finished my own breakfast he still hadn’t made it to the table.
“ Where is father?” ,I asked my mother, “ he is off for the morning taking care of some business.” , replied my mother.
It didn’t occur to me until later that she hadn’t looked up from the fire to tell me, all morning for that matter, but I remembered catching a glimpse of her cheek, which seemed to be drenched with what I thought was sweat at the time. I once again ignored the re-occurring sick feeling in my stomach and went back to work in the barn.
Hours passed as I went on with my daily routine. Once I was done with my chores, I sat in a stack of hey and talked to my dear brown horse, (even though I was supposed to help my mother in the house).
Before I knew it I had fallen asleep, but soon awoke to the soft whisper of voices outside the barn door. For some reason I was so surprised by the disturbance that I just quickly stood up and only took a moment to wipe the sweat off my head with my muddy hand.
My father soon stood at the door with a look of surprise and disgust on his face, and I knew immediately that he was disappointed with my appearance.
He quickly approached me and started picking hay out of my hair and wiping my face with his sleeve. No sooner had he finished, an elegant looking man was standing in the doorway of the barn. He was handsome and his appearance told me that he was of a higher class than most who lived around the area.
He had a stern look on his face and without a word just approached me and started to examine me.
He looked at my face, twirled me around, and put his hands around my waist and just stood back for a second glance.
I looked up at my father who kept a straight look at the upper class man; I looked at the floor.
“She’ll do,” said the man in a deep voice, “they marry in a fortnight. Get her ready, clean her up and teacher her proper manners.”
A sudden look of surprise fell upon the faces of both me and my father. His, however, seemed to be of more delight than mine.
My father followed the man out to the carriage and I followed him.
“Yes sir”, replied my father, “you won’t regret this.”
“He won’t regret what?” I asked aloud.
“I hope I won’t” said the man.
“He hopes he won’t what?” I asked again, this time my father putting his hand over my mouth.
“See you in two weeks!” yelled my father as we watched the carriage drive off.
I waited this time to assure that my father would answer me and asked again,” He won’t regret what?”
“He won’t regret marrying you off to his son, Lord Shropshire,” said my father as he headed off to the house.
I followed behind, quickening my pace to keep up with my father, “why are you doing this father, I’m only 16.”
“Exactly” said my father,” we should have married you off two years ago but better late than never" he replied, more to himself rather than me;
"and we need the money Sophie, just accept it.”
“I won’t!” I yelled, “You can’t make me!”
My father came to a dead stop in front of me; he turned and gave me the coldest look I had ever gotten from anyone.
“You are going to marry in two weeks whether you like it or not, if you don’t approve than keep it to yourself. Lord Shropshire is a good young man who belongs to a wealthy family with good money, so for the next two weeks you are going to be taught good manners and poise and marry in the end!”
He stormed off into the house, leaving me behind in the middle of the dirt road leading to our house. I was almost sure that I saw him on the verge of crying, but I just stood there in shock.
As the two weeks went by I did what I was told; which was quite unusual for me.
Many new rules were placed upon me and it became unbearable at times, but every time I wanted to quit, I saw the look on my father’s face the day he told me of my betrothal.
Things in my house changed from that day on.
I was no longer required to do chores but I had to read books about things that I truly didn’t understand.
My mother’s smiles became less and less as the days passed and my father’s joyful tone became hard and cold every time he talked, which became a rarity as well.
When the second week of my training came round I had fully come to realize that it was as hard for my parents to let go of me as it was for me to leave.
Lord Shropshire’s father stopped by one last time to "examine" me before the wedding. It seemed that he left that time much more pleased with my appearance. My parents, however, seemed more depressed than ever.
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Today is the wedding day.
I woke up with many mixed emotions this morning. So many questions that I wished I could ask someone.
As I was lying in bed my mother came into my room. She seemed to be in a different mood than she had been the last two weeks. She seemed to have more joy in her face and a bounce in her step.
“It is time for you to get up sweetheart. You’ve worked so hard for today; just try to get out of it what you can.”
She finished opening the drapes and started pouring water for me to wash my face.
I slowly got out of bed feeling a little more satisfied with what was to come in my future, but no less scared.
I finished getting ready and took one last look around my room. As I did so, memories from my childhood flashed though my head. I grew up in this house and now I was stepping in to the adult world, and though I was shivering with fright I had a small warm feeling inside, that told me everything was going to be all right.
I looked down to my stomach and found that the uncomfortable sick feeling had disappeared. I turned to my mother who guided me to the door of my room. I stopped for a moment wanting to take a look back, but didn’t. I was ready to move forward into the world.
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