HER

The First Letter

(I originally wrote this with Google Documents and I was using the "Courier New" style font, so It would resemble a type-writer but Wattpad doesn't have options like that, so sorry if you find the formatting weird.  I did It like this with the specific style font so It looks like a genuine letter from the late 1800s. Hope you enjoy! and let me know if you spot any writing errors.)

August 24, 1873.

Rouen , France.

Doctor Peirce,

London, England.

To My Dearest Jhonny:

How are you? How is Mary and you're soon to be born child? I know that I normally write with a more personal style, but for what I'm about to tell you I required a more precise text. Hence, the type-writer I purchased with my last paycheck from the Butcher on Ninth street. Do you still remember him? His wife is one of the bakers at the Cerise bakery past the Bairds Farm. I suppose you wouldn't since you haven't come home since mother got sick. How is England? Are the people as proper and snobbish as they have been foretold to be? 

(not trying to like typeset you, possible readers residing in England! I researched this! From the older books of that time, and with the monarchy, England was viewed as posh and upper-class. And also snobbish and proper. I don't mean to offend anyone.)

I suppose that's enough small talk. The reason for my expensive letter that I painstakingly slaved over is a concerning one. I fell in love with a female, much like myself. She arrived in town two summers ago, with her father and younger brother. They came by train, with only three suitcases apiece. They moved in next door. The old Muller's house. He died three summers ago from Hay Fever.  Maman had me bring over one of Gayle's Cherry pies. The butcher's wife. 

I remember knocking on the old wooden door. There was shuffling and a feminine voice that sounded of honey and gravel yelling, "à venir!". What opened the door wasn't a person; it was an angel. A petit fille with golden blonde locks and the bluest eyes. It was if I was staring at the sky. I felt blood rushing to my cheeks and Handed her the pie without saying anything. I rushed away, feeling blessed of all things. Why did such an encounter leave me feeling as other girls did when Marcus Blanco smiled at them? Why was my heart racing like a girl with a taste of premier amour? I contemplated these questions and feelings as I avoided her for the rest of the summer.

Luckily, The school I was going to was a few hours away, this was the last year at the academy as I was turning nineteen next fall. I seldom came home that following year. I didn't know why I was avoiding her.  One term went by and summer came. I made an excuse not to come home, eluding under the guise of the summer cold, which was very common at the academy. 

Second term came and went, and suddenly there was no where to run. 

I had successfully avoided her for eighteen days the following summer, only seeing snippits of her blond hair here and there. 

It was at the annual Summer Solstice that our "friendship" began. I had gone with Jacoby Phillips and a few others from my art class at the college. I was eating a caramelized apple with Seritta Minks when I saw her. She was wearing a short white summer dress, with knee-high riding boots. And With her golden hair braided down her back. And Again, I was hit with the sensation of papillons- butterflies or nerves as a doctor such as yourself would classify them- in my stomach. Blood rose to my cheeks and my whole body lit with a nervous electricity. I was attuned to her every move. It was as though she was a witch, and I, a willful subject to her beguile. And she smiled at me. And my knees went weak. I felt this pull to her. Like she was light, and I was a firefly. I suppose I was her darkness, corrupting her with lust for my feminine willies. She was drawn to me as well. 

It's been a few days since she dragged me behind the circus tent full of children eating popcorn and men and women we both knew and kiss me.

It was an entirely new expirence and I'm not sure how to handle it. 

Please,  Jhonny! Explain it to me! help me understand what's going on with me. 

Awaiting your much appreciated answer,  

Your ever faithful sister, 

Jane Weatherby Pierce