''Do you believe in magic? '' I am at school right now, and this is the question that was given by our professor in our philosophy class. It sparked a lively debate among my classmates, with some arguing that magic is merely an illusion while others firmly believe in its existence.
While I am just here at my seat, not participating, doodling in my notebook, not minding all the debate that is going on around me,
''How about you? In the corner, what do you think about magic? '' And it suddenly came silent, so I looked around me, and all of them were looking in my direction, so I pointed at myself.
''Yes, I am asking you.'' Our professor in the front of the room said, breaking the silence. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Finally, I spoke up, "Well, I think that magic can be interpreted in different ways. While some may see it as an illusion or trickery, others may believe in its mystical and unexplainable nature." The room erupted into a new wave of discussion as my classmates eagerly shared their thoughts on the matter.
''But do you believe in magic? '' He asked again, which made my brows crease..
''I don't.'' I replied firmly, my voice carrying a hint of skepticism. "While I find the concept intriguing, I personally lean towards a more scientific explanation for things that may appear magical. However, I do respect and appreciate the wonder and awe that magic can bring to others." The room fell silent once again as my response sparked contemplation among my peers.
''What about parallels? '' My professor continued, ''Parallels? '' I repeated, my curiosity piqued. ''Are you referring to the idea of alternate realities or dimensions that may exist alongside our own? It's an interesting concept to explore, but I would approach it with the same scientific mindset, seeking evidence and logical explanations.'' The professor nodded thoughtfully, clearly intrigued by my perspective.
''Hmm..so you are a logical thinker,'' he mused. ''Indeed,'' I replied. ''I believe that exploring concepts like alternate realities can be fascinating, but it's important to approach them with critical thinking and a desire for empirical evidence.'' The professor smiled, acknowledging the importance of maintaining a scientific approach even when discussing speculative ideas.
''So you also don't believe in such things.'' He added, raising a brow.
''Not necessarily,'' I answered. "I don't dismiss the possibility of alternate realities or supernatural phenomena entirely. However, I do approach them with a healthy dose of skepticism until there is substantial evidence to support their existence. It's crucial to strike a balance between open-mindedness and rationality in exploring these ideas." The professor nodded, appreciating my nuanced perspective on the matter.''
*****************************
''Lady Rebecca, your father sent a letter.'' Miss Nam informed the lady, who is now preparing to go to bed.
''Okay'' was the only answer she gave, not showing interest.
''Lady Rebecca, you must at least read the letter. It may contain important information or urgent matters that require your attention," Miss Nam insisted, concerned about the potential consequences of disregarding her father's message.
''I don't want anything to do with them, Rebecca replied, her voice filled with bitterness and resentment. Miss Nam sighed, understanding the deep-seated animosity she held towards her family. However, she knew it was her duty to encourage Rebecca to at least consider the contents of the letter for her own well-being.
''But this is the third letter for this week; this must be important, my lady.'' Rebecca just ignored Irin.
''Alright, then.'' Miss Nam sighed and put the letter on the side table of the lady's bed.
''I will just put it in your drawer, in case you change your mind.'' Miss Nam opened the drawer where the other letters were put and saw that one of the sealed envelopes was already torn open.
The door clicked as Miss Nam closed it.
''What is it, Freen? '' Miss Nam said, and hiding Freen got out from the corner, looking concerned.
''She hasn't eaten yet, but don't worry, she will get along.'' Miss Nam said. ''I'll make sure to check on her later.'' Miss Nam patted Freen's shoulder. Freen nodded. They both then walked to their rooms.
''Miss Nam.'' Freen started.
''Hm? '' Miss Nam
Freen hesitated, but it was clear that she was worried about something.
''What is it, Freen? '' Miss Nam said while they were still walking.
''Nothing Miss Nam.'' Freen said still looking down.
''Tell me, what really is it?'' Miss Nam stop walking and Freen did too.
Rebecca's POV
I can't believe it!
Are they this desperate to get rid of me?
I am forced to apologize to the Maurer family for my impulsive behavior in siding with my former handmaidt Freen rather than my fiancé's twisted behavior. The shame of their family's name is more important to them than George beating me. All just because I am a woman and should not interrupt on men's matters.
Saving a low-born maid is tantamount to betraying the family. It's sad to see such deeply rooted gender biases and societal expectations that place reputation ahead of fairness. It is critical that we confront these damaging traditions and strive for equality, in which the worth of every individual is not defined by their gender or social class.
I'm still the one who comes out without delicacy and graces because my parents trained me incorrectly, not knowing proper etiquette as a lady, and'' I '' embarrassed their son for defending my handmaid from his harsh methods, stating I'm unfit to be connected with their family. I, on the other hand, refuse to be defined by their narrow-mindedness and outmoded views. I believe in sticking up for what is right, even if it means defying cultural norms about how a woman should act.
But my parents are so unpleasant and critical, always criticizing my choices and actions. It irritates me that they put their traditions before my fulfillment and development as a person. I'm determined to be loyal to who I am, though, and show that being a lady entails more than simply following the rules of society.
And telling me that marrying George Maurer is a good ideal husband because he comes from an affluent family isn't enough. I want a spouse who values and supports my goals, someone who sees me as a collaborator rather than a trophy bride.
They even informed me that they were not going to let me marry George, which is why they moved me here to be away from people's gossip. But what is happening now is certainly not the case.
''I hate being born a woman.'' I often find myself questioning the limitations and expectations placed upon me solely because of my gender. Society's narrow definition of a woman's role can be suffocating, leaving me longing for the freedom to pursue my own ambitions and dreams. It is frustrating to witness how my worth is often measured by societal standards rather than recognizing my individuality and unique qualities.
Dearest Rebecca,
How are you feeling? It has been a week since I wrote the letter, but we haven't received a response from you. I hope you are doing well and taking the time you need to process everything I shared in my letter. I understand that it may be a lot to digest, and I respect your need for space. However, I would appreciate it if we could have a conversation soon so that we can address any concerns or questions you may have. Communication is important to me, and I value our relationship.
But you must understand that we are doing this for your own good. You are our only daughter, and we don't want you to make any decisions without considering all the factors. We want to support you and guide you in making the best choices for your future. It's important for us to have an open and honest discussion so that we can understand each other's perspectives and find a resolution that works for everyone involved.
And you must understand that I already promised you to marry Maure's son George; we already talked, and they are willing to reconsider the wedding and forget about what happened with you and George.
If you formally apologize to them and admit that you are wrong for interrupting George's matters with the servant, it will show your willingness to take responsibility for your actions and make amends. This will not only help rebuild trust between our families but also pave the way for a more harmonious future for everyone involved.
Rebecca Patricia Armstrong, you are an Armstrong. You carry our surname, and as part of a noble family, you always consider the consequences of your actions. It is important to remember that our reputation is at stake, and any conflict or misunderstanding can reflect poorly on us. Therefore, it is crucial to approach this situation with humility and sincerity, demonstrating your commitment to resolving the issue and maintaining the dignity of our family name.
with sincere regards, your father
I crumpled the letter my father sent, and again, I lay on my bed.
I feel so trapped.
I feel a sense of confinement and suffocation, as if the weight of the world is pressing down on me. The words in the letter echo in my mind, reminding me of the responsibilities and expectations that I can't seem to escape.
I wish I was born a commoner; they may have a simple life, but at least they have the freedom to make their own choices and pursue their own dreams without the burden of societal pressures. I long for the chance to break free from this suffocating existence and find my own path, away from the constraints of my family's expectations.
I can't really imagine marrying such a brutal and barbaric man.
Urgh, all I can do is shout on this pillow. and hope that my screams somehow reach the heavens, pleading for a different fate. But deep down, I know that my voice alone may not be enough to change the course of my life.
Plok
Plok
I hear something knocking on my window. I picked up the lamp beside me and cautiously approached the window, my heart pounding with anticipation. As I pull back the curtain, I am met with a surprising sight: a small bird pecking at the glass. Intrigued by its persistence, I can't help but wonder if this unexpected visitor is a sign of hope or a mere coincidence.
But then I saw a piece of paper under a stone; it was folded, and there was a flower.I opened the window and picked up the flower. It was a lily in a valley. The bell-like flower put a smile on my lips. I smelled its sweet fragrance, and a sense of calm washed over me.
I looked around and saw no one who would put such things up in the middle of the night. It is so quiet that you can only hear the crickets chirping from a distance. It's so dark that I can't see anything. I picked up the piece of paper and closed the window, but it was hard as I was holding a lamp on my left and the flower and paper on my right, so I decided to put the lamp down and carefully close the window. As I did, a soft breeze brushed against my face, carrying with it the faint scent of the flower. Intrigued, I unfolded the piece of paper to find a handwritten note that read, and a smiling face figure. I may not understand the scribbles on this paper, but they gave me a sense of happiness.
And down the line, I saw an arrow. It was like instructing me to look at a certain tree on the field. It was clear; the sketch was so good.
I actually admire the talent of this person; she can sketch really well. Things are so detailed but still full of life and emotion. I couldn't help but feel a connection to the artist, as if they were trying to convey a message through their intricate drawings. I decided to follow the arrow and see what awaited me at the designated tree.
I opened the window again quicky, and I picked up the lamp as a sign like it instructed, and there I saw on the tree a human-shaped shadow waving at me. I couldn't see who it was as it was dark, and what happened next put me in awe.
The field went bright as fireflies were released by her. Yes, it is her. She is a woman, a lady.
''Flower girl '' is the only word that came out of my mouth while my eyes were glowing like there was a fire in them, as it reflects the glow the fireflies give off. She had an ethereal presence, as if she were one with nature. The fireflies danced around her, illuminating her delicate features and flowing gown. It was a mesmerizing sight that left me speechless and filled with wonder.
It's sad that I can't clearly see her face as she is too far from me. But I believe, and I know she's beautiful.
I don't care if this is an illusion. All I know is that in this moment, she has captured my heart and ignited a fire within me. The way she moves with grace and the enchanting aura she exudes are enough to make me believe in magic.
A spark of hope, like a shooting star across the night sky, ignites within me. I can't help but imagine a future where our paths cross again, where I can finally see her face and tell her how she has touched my soul.