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Post by avery mercer on Apr 7, 2010 10:51:54 GMT -5
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Post by avery mercer on Apr 7, 2010 10:53:42 GMT -5
I have come unraveled. My place in this world feels uncertain- clouded where it once was clear. I would hardly bat a single lash if I were to learn my life was somehow influenced by the mischievous hand of a pagan god. Bewilderment is the most apt description for how I feel. It is hard to imagine that in seven months time that I, Avery Mercer who once was due to marry the future Lord Hale of Bremley is now a governess. To confess that I was better off as my father’s daughter residing in our home in Belgrave square would be akin to an act treason against my being. I do not want to return to the finite existence I have known my entire life. Memories that I would do best to forget no longer plague me for I no longer see the rooms where Elliot once asked me for my hand and when he hurled hateful words when he found me in the arms of another. I have grown easily accustomed to living without the parties and all sorts of gatherings my father threw where I would always hear the hushed whispers of how it was such a shame I was not born with the great beauty my mother had or at least a male to carry on my father’s legacy. I do not miss the lonely days when my cousins were off with their father and my only distractions were shutting myself in our grand library, devouring books as if I were starved for stimulation. Nor the meals where my father and I would sit in painful silence which were only interrupted when my father felt the need to comment harshly on how lacking in some skill I had become. Though they seldom came - for I surmised my father’s greatest displeasure was acknowledging that I was in fact alive while my mother laid dead- they could always cut me to the quick. I suppose that is where I inherit my sharp tongue though I would be hard pressed to admit aloud to any semblance to my father.
My father’s adept ability in causing my displeasure hardly ceased with his death for now I am without any means of wealth and must rely on the charity of my dear uncle. He must have known that I would have spent my wealth in pursuing in ventures that both he and society deny me based on my sex. I do not know why it came as such a shock. Alistair Mercer was hardly an unintelligent man. It always seemed strange how men who resembled more beast than man can attain such fear and respect while men like my father are considered harmless-they are the ones who should be given the widest berth. Their touch may not inflict physical harm but it can pervade every bit of your life till it is wholly in their control.
I can hardly shed the feeling that I do not belong when I continue to feel this way even in the home of my cousin. Even my position in society bears the weight of uncertainty. To think how I strongly resisted my position in society and now that I am without I feel unsure is a strange concept for me to swallow. Should I not be happy to finally be liberated and not be plagued by my doubts? To feel no longer sure of myself is one of the worst feelings one can ever possess. It as if I have been suddenly take out to the vast expanses of the ocean on a small vessel-hardly fit for even the calmer waters of the Thames- without neither a navigational instrument nor knowledge of the sea or the stars to set myself on a definite course thus I’ll remain forever adrift. Although there may lie a chance that perhaps a ship will come, its equivalent would be that of a man in the role of a valiant knight come to save the poor damsel.
I am hardly a defenseless damsel. Poor, yes but I am not in search of some man to save me. My only wish is to find firm footing so that I shall cease to feel the waves of anxiety when I think to the future and cease to feel as aimless as I do.
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