Here's to Books

Author's Note: So, I have decided to start this story and to be honest I have no idea what it's going to be about. I have a character and a place and that's it! So, I'm going to run with it and see where it goes (hopefully somewhere good!). I will be posting chapters randomly so, let's see! Leave comments and input (even some ideas if you, my dear reader, have any!) and here we go:)

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May 4, 1801

I never knew what my story would hold. I never knew what I would become. As a child, I dreamed of daring sword fights, mystical dragons,  and princes in shining armor riding upon a beautiful white steed. My dreams were lived both day and night getting me into more trouble than most. I was known as the daydreamer; the one with the doe eyes and unkempt hair; the one nobody talked to or spent time with. I lived a rather dreary childhood, rain and thunderclouds were a normal thing where I grew up, shouting and crying were a part of my normal activities. The shouting never came from me, I refused to talk after the incident. I felt no need for the world to hear my voice, to feel my presence. I didn't think anyone ever cared enough to hear me for who I was and to understand where I came from. My father was a good man, but not every good man is a good father. My mother was wonderful woman, and I truly believe that she deserved that title. She did her best with what life gave her, never letting one negative word leave her mouth and never letting a soul hear her shouts. I never thought my mother to be rude, or unkind, or abandoning. I thought my father to be those things and I soon found to be right. He left us when I was ten years old. My mother's heart couldn't hold out for much longer after that. She was shattered when she discovered that he was gone. Some people love that which is bad for them, and my mother loved my father. She was addicted to him, as strange as it sounds, addicted to the way he paid attention to her and the way he neglected her. She was always fighting for his attention and love. It became who she was and her life was spent trying to please him. So, when he left, she felt useless and unwanted. I was left with no father and a mother who could hardly leave the bed to go to the bathroom. A broken heart is a serious matter and I pray that I never suffer from one. A year after my father left, my mother gave up and passed on. She couldn't spend her days any longer knowing that no one loved her the way my father pretended to even though I spent every day next to her bedside. I've always found it strange that no matter how hard we try, our intentions backfire and those we love most think we hate them. I watched my mother's eyes turn from love to hate, and her words turn from grace to vile. I don't hate my mother for what happened, and I don't hate my father. I hate the girl who couldn't fix it...

"Mae, get down 'ere or so 'elp me!" I slam the journal closed and shove it under my thin mattress. Grabbing my apron off the hook next to the doorframe, I skip down the stairs two at a time while slipping it over my head. 

"Mae!" Lizzie stands in the middle of the kitchen with her arms elbow deep in pot of water. "Good 'eavens child, I thought I 'ad lost you to the dreamers." I let out a small laugh at her phrasing. My daydreaming is still a constant, and it still gets me into trouble.

"I'm sorry Liz, I was..."

"No ma'er, come over 'ere and 'elp me with this pot. Mistress wants it 'ot and steamy for 'er bath this morning." I rush over and help mix the soap into the water. We drag the pot over to the fire and hang it on it's hook.

"There, now let that sit for 'bout thirty minutes or so then you will need to take it up to Misses and 'elp 'er with 'er bath." I nod my head as Liz leaves the kitchen. I look around and take in the comforting site of the kitchen. It's plain and simple, something I've always preferred, with it's gray and tan color tones. A small pot of sunflowers sits on the windowsill trying to add some color to the dreary room. I don't think it's at all dreary, but Liz is one to keep things looking lively. 

"Good morning Miss. Mae, how are you on this lovely morning?" I can't help but let a small smile make an appearance as I turn to see Stephen waltzes through the kitchen door. He holds brown paper packages under his arm and a mischievous smile takes permanent residency on his face. I walk over to the sink and begin to peel the potatoes for breakfast.

"Good morning to you Stephen. I am quite well. You seem in a good mood." 

"Ah Mae, it's a wonderful day. Just simply wonderful!" I hear him make a few more turns on his heel until he comes to a stop next to me. He leans against the counter and watches me peel the potatoes expectantly.

"Any more letters?" I look over and see his smile broaden, "Ah, so that explains it. What is it this time, has she declared her undying love to you?" I turn and place my hand on my hip, looking up to Stephen I realize I am a good four inches shorter than he. When did he grow up so fast?

"No, quite the contrary, " He lets out a contagious laugh, "She called me a pig! But, I think it's a start!" He kicks off from the counter and heads out the back door that leads to the backyard. 

"When will he ever learn?" I smile to myself. 

I finish the potatoes and take the pot off the fire to let it cool down a bit. When I first started, carrying the pot was only a dream to laugh at, but now I find it quite easy to carry the pot off the fire and up the stairs to the Mistress's room. I started when I was young, eleven to be exact and Liz has been a great teacher. She now completely trusts me with running the entire estate when she has to leave, but might I add she hardly ever is gone. Liz is the housekeeper and has been for the past forty years. This entire estate has been known as the best in all of England thanks to her, but don't tell her that, she tends to be quite prideful. I met Liz the first day I arrived, she was the one that helped me off the carriage. 

The rain pounds on the carriage window as I cower into the corner trying to hide from the thunder above. I hate thunderstorms, my entire life has been lived under a one. The carriage rocks back and forth causing me to close my eyes and eventually  fall asleep. When I awake, I find that I am in a comfy room laying on the most luxurious couch I have ever seen. The velvet seems to melt as I let my hand caress the fabric. I look around the room at the dark purples and shining golds that are so rich it's almost too much to bear. I stand up and begin to walk around the grand room taking everything in from the floor to ceiling windows, to the plush rug. I feel a small smile form and a laugh bubble up. So this is where my story takes me, this is where it all starts. 

"Girl look at me." The voice is pompous and short. There was a shrill quality that scratches against your eardrums. I turn and see a woman dressed in the finest clothes I have ever seen, a deep blue dress with crystal patterns. She stands straight and tall not once wavering. I stare at her trying to match her form, but knowing that I cannot even compare. 

"Dear Lord Liz, is this really the one you picked out?" I turn to see a younger looking Liz, her hair brown instead of gray and her eyes vibrant and colored. 

"Yes Misses, she's the one I was 'oping to 'ave as my right 'and girl." Her thick accent was alarming but I instantly knew she was on my side. 

"Very well, take her at once to begin training. I would very much enjoy a bath this dreary morning." The woman leaves the room, her heels clicking on the marble as she briskly walks down the hall. I look at Liz and she watches me with a small smile,

"I 'ave a good feeling about you Miss. Mae. A real good feeling." 

"Mae, come on deary, please focus." Liz pokes my shoulder as she moves to help me with the pot. I shake my head and continue lifting the pot towards the door and up the stairs. I walk up the three stories to the mistresses bedroom and arrive at the servants entrance to her room. I take a deep breath and open the door, of the seven years I've been here at Pinely estate I will never get used to being the mistresses personal servant. The opened door reveals a spacious room with no light. I walk over to the metal tub that rests behind a divider and pour the water from the pot into the tub. I then walk over and open all the curtains.

"Miss, it's time to wake up." I turn to look at the young girl whom I have known all my time here but freeze in my tracks because this time, it's not just her in the bed, but also a young man.