2:45 pm, August 30, 1797

"Ahhhhh ahhhhhh!" *panting*

"Wah wah wah!"

Florence stood in the doorway burning the scene into her memory. She felt like she would fall into an abyss if she kept watching, but something in her didn't let her look away.

The newborn baby girl was immediately taken away. All attention returned to the mother who just gave birth. The woman was deathly pale and seemed incredibly weak.

To Florence, the scene slowed, slower, and slower. The room was chaotic, nurses scampering around. However, the only sound that could be heard was the light sobbing of a man and the sweet incoherent echo of the woman's last words. Tears streaked down Florence's cheeks, falling onto her knees. A black hole appeared under her, swallowing her whole, but she was too consumed by grief to be scared.

• • •

6:52 am, August 30, 1813

In a lavender room in London, a 15 year old girl raised from her bed with a start. Her breath was heavy and her body trembled. She raised her shaking hand to her face, wiping away her wet tears. Florence put her hand down and gripped her bedsheets as if she was in excruciating pain. As her breathing settled down, she walked into her bathroom closing the door behind her.

The house was still quiet as the sun rose above the trees. Florence's hair messily covered her face as she solemnly stared into her hazel eyes in the mirror. She dropped her body onto the ground, her hand desperately pulling a tile off the bathroom floor. For the past 16 years of her life, every time she slept, the same scene would play. She didn't want to sleep because of her recurring nightmare, causing her to have a severe case of insomnia. Florence reached for a small white bottle that was under the tile and spilled five pills into the palm of her hand. Tilting back her head, she swallowed the pills whole. Immediately her shaking stopped. Standing back up, she looked at her self again after washing her face and smiled. Looking at her now, no one would've guessed what she looked like a few seconds before.

Laughter filled the house as Florence walked downstairs. A man was sitting at the head of the table laughing with another woman and a teenage girl. The noise died down and the girl looked up spotting Florence.

"Sister! Quickly sit, I made breakfast today. Hotcakes and sausages. How is it? I woke up early this morning to make these specifically!"

"I believe that it'll be delicious Louisa, it smells heavenly."

Florence sat down beside Louisa and dug in.

"Mmmmm, best hotcakes I ever had!"

"Really? You're not lying are you?"

"Of course Florence's not lying! Didn't I tell you your hotcakes were delicious."

"Mother! Even if my hotcakes were disgusting, you'd still say they were delicious!"

"Oh Louisa, you are perfect no matter what you do. It's a blessing to have you as my child."

"Father! You too?"

Laughter resumed and the little family of three was enveloped with warmth. Florence smiled on the outside but felt cold and bitter on the inside. Not once did her father look at her when she entered the room even though it was her 16th birthday. The only one who got attention was Louisa like the whole family revolved around her. She couldn't stand being in this house, but she was too scared to leave and survive on her own.

• • •

2:45 pm

Later that day, Florence was walking through the market place with a basket of fruit sitting on her hip. She was in her own world and her awareness of her surroundings disappeared. The next thing she knew, she was staring into two dark green eyes. Her body was kept from hitting the dirt road by a slender arm and her basket of fruits had flown out of her hands.