I looked at the simple golden watch and found that the time in which I was returning home was a little after 2 am. Nearing my home after a quite dangerous walk while inebriated, settled me with relief. But that relief was soon gone, when I saw my house was starkly dark, and being in a dark forest didn't do any wonders for me. I would have to go through my house searching for my oil lamp.
Everything appeared as a blur as I stepped closer and closer to my destination. Fear seemed to discipline me as a terror rode through my body, seeing shadowy apparitions, darker than even the midnight, travel through my house in loud silence. It felt as if I would swallow my tongue as I stood stilted by the door, with my key hanging in my hand, waiting to open my door. So, I made quick movements, moving as if it were choreographed by quick and lithe dancers. I was far less graceful however, as after I ran through my open door to flee the discomfort of the darkness and instead twisted around by stepping on the tail end of my dress and end up hitting my head harshly on my shoe rack.
As I lay there, my life evaluation came into existence in my head, try as I did to shake it away. Here I was, trying to avoid these dark and troubling apparitions, when really my real escape should have been against my base loneliness. No one danced with me at the party, barely anyone said a word of notice, realizing that I was a wallflower trying to be seen. I don't know what bothered me more, the standing by because I do not have the forthright ability to approach anyone, or that I'm so characteristically common, that it would be a challenge to actually notice and remember me.
No more of the apparitions, the shadows, now it is just the beginning of daily thoughts. Slowly, I begin to rise, startingly angry at myself for having such low thoughts of myself. My head is already having the symptoms of sickness, so I move fast up the stairs, towards my room to bathe all the dirt of the night away.
Before I felt, I heated up water and put it in a silver tin wash tub. It was a little lukewarm after I stripped my clothes away and slipped in. I dipped my brush in and rubbed a little soap on it. Scrubbing so hard, I left dirt not from tonight, but from the past, from my skin. There also lie some peelings that let me know of my aggressiveness. I drained the water out of the tub and threw it out of the window after I dressed in my nightgown, without noting how bright the moon, the stars or even how lush the trees as I usually do, instead noting how close I was in dropping the tub out of the window. I stumbled into my room and slammed into my bed, immediately closing my eyes and despite noticing the cold breeze of the wind tumbling through the window, which was sightly open, no longer did I have the energy to close it. I went slack and everything seemed even darker when I closed my eyes.
****
The sun began twinkling through the curtains and blinds of my windows, and just as I predicted, a loud booming sensation scattered through my head. I laid my head down and closed my eyes even tighter to shut out what seemed to be blinding light. Then the thoughts of last night began to rise to occasion and I also had to block out that unfortunate occasion.
It was a Sunday morning and soon the choir's hymn began to rise, heavenly and light. The singing began to cloud my mind, distracting me from loneliness of last night. I got up and found myself, almost as if I were not in control, opening the curtains wide, spotting the yellow and red beginnings of Autumn in the field.
A smile rose to my face and I turned away, going to my door to open it and precede down the stairs. There was a haunting quality of those voices echoing against the walls of my head. But there was peace overtaking me. It calmed my soul, slowly overcoming the ache from my head, and my heart, which all sang low tones. It fueled me to go ahead and make my breakfast, to find my new start in my day. The muttering of the service settles in my ears and the memories of the services I used to attend when I was an adolescent and child are opened to me. Then I was 9 and believing. Now I am 20 and 3, and while those beliefs I still find interesting, never will I allow myself in an actual church due to the harmful system it has.
Shaking away those thoughts, I find myself looking through my icebox for my eggs, jelly, sausage, and continuing on top the icebox for my grits and bread. It was such a surprised that I was even this hungry after what was a lesson in how inebriated you should not get, but gently the pain was flowing back to my head.
As I am creating my omelet and starting my toast, a knock came against my door. Momentarily I was distracted by that because never have I had company out in these somewhat secluded forests. Slowly, I come back to my sense and cut off the stove before I could burn anymore of my food. I figured I was moving a bit too slowly, because another knock came, so I rushed on over and pulled the door open. In front of me was Margery, a schoolmate, with a simple, yet richly elegant dress and bonnet, with her angelic and divine brow face lit up in a smile.
"Oh! Margery, please do come in." I ushered her inside the house and felt the breeze already coming to wake. However, she extends her hands and I look down to see a purse sewn on pink roses. My purse.
"I found this at the party and couldn't find you, so I figured that I would find where you lived to bring it back to you."
Graciously, I took it from her and thanked her, asking if she would like to stay for tea.
"Actually, I was going to Joe's coffee house today." She did a quick pause before continuing. "Would you like to come out with me?'
At once I felt flattered and shamed. I did not have the money for such a rich coffee house, yet the want for company seemed so tempting.
"I should love to go, but I do not have the money for such things."
"I asked that with the full confidence you would say that, and here I retort, I shall pay and do not worry about owing me back."
I was shocked, as I have no comeback for that.
"Well…I'd love to go." I simply said. "That would be sure to make my day."
A smile grew on Margery's face.
"I must tell you, your shock about this is somewhat surprising. For someone so outspoken and confident like you, to hear you have really no friends is well..." Margery slowed to a stop and looked at me as if I were a enigma.
"I'm not really anyone's cup of tea, and while I'm somber about that, I continue to go on with my life and do the best I can. Hopefully, the right people come along." I respond, averting my glance.
"Well," says Margery. "I don't have quite a lot of people attempting to knock on my door and hang out with me either."
I turned my gaze back to her, shocked.
"What I'm saying is that we're both wallflowers in our own way and no longer do we have to be since I've found you and you've found me."
And a slow smile grew on our faces. It took a while for our paths to cross, but it was worth it. Or was it? Should I have had to wait so long for a companion that most people have when they turn around 6?
Slowly, I drew away from her, as we were so close, our hands seemed a millimeter away from touching. As I drew away, I knew to say "Let me just get dressed. It seems I'm a little underdressed here." She nodded her head with a gentle smile plastered on her face.
Up the stairs I walk, and I am met with the sheer ordinary plainness of it, yet there is comfort inside of this room, with its mint green walls and not a crack or peel in sight. I search through my closet, finding a simple frilly blue dress that is much like a nightgown (but more proper to wear outdoors) and a white bonnet with a deep green ribbon tie and net-like fringes covering my face. I then grabbed a pair of laced white boots to complement my clothes. It took me a moment to go down the stairs, just breathing. So, breath I did, multiple breaths until I made it down the stairs. Finally, off the final stair I made it to and towards Margery. She turned with a bright smile of hers.
"Shall we begin to go?" She asks with a flutter of her eyelashes.
"Yes, let's get going."
And yes, we've only just begun, but a soulmate can be a soulmate even if we're just friends.