Collection of Older Works

Flashbacks of a Fool: Chapter One

"I am afraid to show you who I really am, because if I show you who I really am, you might not like it--and that's all I got." Sabrina Ward Harrison

                                                                               ***

Autumn 1839 

Running tired fingers along her face, Annabelle sighed wishing in earnest the released breath would untangle the tense and knotted matters that were her throbbing muscles. The past days had been the busiest of her life and certainly not the most pleasant as it never was easy preparing for special guests. Mrs. Melbourne, the mistress of the house, made it a point to be painfully overbearing and even more disagreeable than normal. Since the rather spontaneous visitant was the man rumored to be offering her daughter marriage, Annabelle felt her to be excruciatingly unbearable.

It was no secret that Mrs. Melbourne was but a mere farmer’s daughter when she married Mr. Melbourne, a man born to a more respectable family.  Well on her way to spinsterhood, the right opportunity arose for the horrid woman to marry when she found herself with child. It seemed, however, that fortune smiled on Mrs. Melbourne too late as all her years of loneliness had already taken their toll.  The woman never smiled and bitterness saturated her every word. Words of which were directed toward Annabelle more often than not.

Rubbing balled fists against her lower back while aching desperately for the little comfort offered by her bed, Annabelle groaned in accepting its blatant impossibility. Having spent the entire morning washing and rewashing the floor to rafters, there were still rooms to tend to, not to mention any other commands demanded of her on a whim.

"Martha!" the arched voice of the looming betrothed seeped through the door, increasing Annabelle's desires to remain hidden in the library. Who in the devils would ever agree to marry such a beast, she wondered in repulsed suspicion when considering the girl who while as equally disagreeable as her mother, too had the great misfortune of not being the least bit handsome. Her masculine brow and seedy eyes coupled with her atrocious behavior but blared of the sham that was to be her lawful troth. But then again, weren't all marriages amongst those of status but political arrangements, love being but a mask in the scheme?

"Martha!"

And could they not have chosen a better name, Annabelle added to her growing list of mental queries; never able to understand why the Melbourne family insisted on calling her Martha. They should have known better than most what her real name was. Weren't they her mother's cousins after all? While objection was clearly the expected reaction, Annabelle learned quickly the rule did not apply to her as such protests were deemed inexcusable, especially by Mr. Melbourne. Whenever she dared voice said opinion, reprimand was swift as it was severe until Martha became her unwilling name and the scars on her back and a reminder that it was to stay as such. And indeed it had; Martha being the only name bestowed upon her for the past seven years.

Annabelle closed the library door quietly. Remaining by the door, she held her hands tightly at her back, fearing her raging nerves would render her clumsier than usual, causing her to break something worth more than her life. A life which over the past sennight, had become a waking nightmare.

“Well come along then, child. I can’t very well address you properly from across the room,” Mr. Melbourne spoke from behind his newspaper, his voice unbetraying of any emotion. The image of the Mr. Melbourne blurred in Annabelle’s eyes as fear clenched a tight fist around her heart. It was her first time being near the man in the week she had lived at the Melbourne House, ever since he’d come for her in the dead of night after her mother’s passing. Annabelle swallowed back the knot that tightened in her throat. Heavens how she missed her mother.