With the moon still present within the sky and my eyes planted on the tree that blocked my view of the unknown boy, I had concluded that I should cease to pursue the search and rest my tired mind. As I made myself comfortable in the soft sheets of my bed, I wished to succumb to sleep but was unable to due to the thoughts racing through my head like a ship upon tempestuous waters. When I finally had closed my eyes, the rising sun had replaced the moon, its light seeping through the window of my room and beckoning me to wake, in which I did so.
I had woken feeling sluggishness, fatigue, and hunger with a touch of thirst; as I was not occupied with frivolous dreams or fiascos, I realised that I had not the chance to eat or drink. I patiently waited for Millie to meet me and dress appropriately for the day, soon hearing the familiar pattern of her steps yon behind the door. "Young miss, had you been blessed with a pleasant rest?" Millie inquired, upon entering my room. I shook my head side to side, emphasising my eventful evening had not been concluded with a rejuvenating sleep. "I desire to subdue my hunger and thirst, Millie, yet if I show my face, my father will surely throttle me."
"Well, there is only one way to find out, young miss; you must face these troubles throughout the duration of your life."
I was left only to sigh for Millie had uttered the truth: to be brave. Exulting bravery was for men, and men only, as Norton and father would say: women were born to be submissive and amenable towards the patriarch. As Millie had finished dressing me, I suddenly remembered the boy I witnessed outside my window. "Millie, does there happen to be inhabitants beyond Greyfield?" Asked I, curious as a mouse who has smelt the scent of cheese, unbeknownst of the trap before them.
"There happens to be a village near, I know no more than that rumour. Why do you ask, young miss?"
"Late last night, I caught a peculiar looking boy roaming about the front gardens; he looked awfully frightened." As I explained, Millie's usual bored expression turned into an expression of annoyance and petulance.
"Do not concern yourself about him, he is only a mere beggar, that searches for scraps." Said she with a frustrated tone, making me believe that he had visited Millie on more than a few occasions. I simply nodded my head as it is quite an impossible task to change the mind of Miss Millie Baxter; although, within my heart, I knew he was more than a mere beggar because there is always something that must be happening behind closed doors.
Millie eventually left me so I may acquire sustenance in the dining room albeit, not leaving without a wish of luck if I should find myself in a situation with my father. When I had arrived, the sound of my family engaging in garrulous full of glee rung throughout my ears. The buoyant atmosphere subsided once I entered the room as my siblings and parent gazed at me and shot their eyes back to the food placed in front of them, except for my dear mother.
"Good morning, Elaine! Come and eat, dear." Mother invited me, ignoring the quiet protest of my father.
Nodding and making myself comfortable within a dining table chair, a maid came scurried out of the kitchen and placed a plate of sausages surrounded by two eggs in front of me, if no one else was around, I would have shovelled the meal into my mouth such as a savage would alas, all eyes were placing me on the spotlight, so I respectfully grabbed my knife and fork, tearing apart the sausage first. As I fed my growling stomach, the confabulation commenced once more, I was again forgotten by the rest of my family that was seated at the table; that was until my father mentioned my name. "Elaine," Called father, staring at me with his phlegmatic expression. "I have considered your consequences for last night's behavioural misstep. You are only permitted to roam the drawing-room, fireplace, bathroom, and your room; your illness has excelled in becoming worse; therefore, you must be contained. Meals will be served to you by the servants and so forth." Father explained, seeming to be quite thrilled with the idea of keeping me isolated.
I felt like an outcast, utterly pathetic. Father was no doctor, so why should he advise me? I glanced around the table and faced Norton, whose mouth was pulled upwards, forming a meretricious smirk that looked to be from a nightmare of some sort. Mother's eyes were downcast and so her expression, feeling as helpless as I, as she could not help me with this predicament. "If I may inform you, I do not happen to be sick, Mrs Holland is the one that must be sick!" I asseverated, reminding father that she was the one to harass me, leaving me to defend myself.
"Quiet!" Father pounded his cutlery into the table, making me whimper and flinch from the sudden noise. "Do you wish to be held in your room for longer!? Do you want to grovel on the streets!?" Father bellowed with austerity, rendering me frozen as I did not know how to respond.
"N-No, father."
It was useless to reason with him, for he was the boss, and ultimately my father. As he sat down and calmed himself, I excused myself from the table and ran off with haste, hearing the wicked laugh of Norton echo throughout the hallway. I ran as fast as my thirteen-year-old legs could take me, wanting to escape this house of mockery and sadness that not even the greatest fireplace could warm. I soon entered the foyer where a portrait of my family was hung between the two staircases, it was impossible not to notice as its gargantuan frame took up most of the wall. Mesmerised by the intricate details and the earthly colours, it reminded me of the time we had received it, only for my father to hand it back for editing because he desired for me to have my eyes coloured instead of all white even though that was naturally meant to be. As I gazed into the painting, an idea struck me within: If mustn't be treated like a loved one, I shall love others, so they feel no longer the pain of being different.
The thought alone filled me to the brim with enthusiasm as the peculiar boy beyond my window entered my mind once more. 'Well then, if I so wish to help, I need not wait any longer!' I thought, excitement rushing throughout my veins as I ran to the kitchen to gather supplies. Thankfully, everyone had left the kitchen to proceed with their daily tasks, leaving the maids to pounce around within the kitchen. "Young lady, may I know your motives for grabbing that apple? I do remember hearing that you happened to be restricted from visiting these parts unless told otherwise." A strict voice from behind me spoke, as of now, I yearned for the ability to be invisible when I saw the authoritative gaze of one of the maids inspecting my figure. "I was peckish, ma'am." I lied, hoping she would snatch the bait and leave.
"The truth, please." She commanded. I sighed and gave in; it was worth the try.
"There is a poor boy near, I only wish to gift him nourishment and my presence. Please, would you be so kind as to give me only something small?"
She pondered for a moment, considering her decisions carefully. "Only this once, hand me the basket." I smiled, glee was apparent upon my face as she placed a neatly folded cloth within the basket, soon to fill it up with fresh fruits, even going so far as to add two scones on the top. It fulfilled me to know that people in this world do indeed want to help others. Thanking the maid, I rushed to my room to receive my coat, rushing back down again like an excited puppy. The considerate maid, named Grace, said it would be wise to venture out the servant's back door to avoid being caught by one of the butlers. There I slipped out into the unknown: as the wild breeze brushed through my hair, I felt the freedom that only used to be described in the books that I read while locked away in my room. Even though the sky was grey, and the sun was hidden away, it filled me with alacrity to explore yonder heights and terrain to come. Alas, I could not explore just yet, for I had made a votary to care for the boy as white as snow.
Concluding my viewing of the cynosure nature that surrounded me, I began my search for the boy by first making my way towards the front gardens of the mansion. Searching near and far, between and within every nook and cranny, he was no longer to be seen; I then had the thought: what if it was just all a dream? It could not be, and if it were, it would have to be the most realistic dream that has graced my mind. Travelling farther away from Greyfield, I stumbled upon a wooded area near the village Millie had told me about. I was entranced by the beauty of this forest. The many branches and leaves united to make a roof over my head, and the plants sprouting, from the ground sheltered the wildlife and insects of this forest. Although my observations were cut short as I heard weeping sounds further within the forest, it sounded as if coming from the north, so I followed the cries and found myself arriving in the middle of a circle of trees, all undulating together as one.
The cries of misery sounded closer than ever before, so I proceeded to look up; there he was, curled into a ball with his hands glued to his face, only peaking out to see if I had taken my leave. Although, I had no intention of leaving just yet, for I was here for a reason. Holding out the basked of goods, I tried to convince the boy that I was no such threat. "I mean no harm! Here, I brought you some food to fill your empty stomach." Said I, hoping he would come and snatch just one fruit or scone. Taking his hands from his face and wiping his teary eyes, he observed me carefully once more, then realising that a girl of my shape could not harm him. Climbing down the tree like a skilled monkey, he made his way over to me and skittishly snatched the scone from my basket, jumping backwards so he could be within a safe distance from me. "I shall not hurt you; I promise. My name is Elaine." I curtseyed with respect. When I had looked up, he took a small bite from the doughy-goodness, and I could have seen his crystal-blue eyes glisten in delight. "M-My name is Edward." He replied bashfully.
His voice was soft like mothers, yet monotonous like fathers. Placing the basket down, I sifted my hand to grab the cloth to wipe his scarred face, it was good thinking of me to bring a jug of water. "Come hither, Andrew. Let me wash your face." Proposed I, to which he considered and then came towards me. I was dreaded to see him flinch when I lifted my hand, he must not live with the nicest people.
"Fear no longer, for I will help you now." I reminded him while wiping and assuaging his pure white skin, which even felt as soft as freshly fallen snow on the first winters day. Locating his hand, I held it within my own, to reassure and calm his tainted mind.