Chapter 1

Mourning for a departed loved one wasn’t good for the young woman’s complexion. Especially those of sixteen who were just entering the London season. That’s what my grandmother had said. But still, I wore black to mourn my mother’s death and I still wore her necklace around my neck under my bodice. The necklace that hung heavy with guilt over what had happened. My mother was gone.
What was to be a normal day of visiting one of my mothers friends turned into a nightmare. This day was the day that changed my life. The day that the happy memories which blossomed in India where I lived turning into horrible memories. The day when something with in side me awoke. They day my visions began. The day that I killed my mother.



I sat across my brother, Xander, in the carriage as we headed to Spence boarding school where I would learn to be a proper young woman. The man I was sitting across from looked nothing like I had remembered. Four years ago, he had left India to study law in London. Four years ago, he was a small frail boy on the brink of manhood. Now, he was a young handsome man who was shallow and nothing of the boy I had remembered. “What is the boarding school like?” I asked, trying to start conversation.

“It’s a promising boarding school. They might be able to tame you though I shall be surprised if they do. Spence turned out great woman. I hope they shall do the same for you and for the man who marries you.” I nodded, looking out the small window at the streets of London. Like my nanny, Sarita, had said, London was glum and grey.

“Sir, we are entering the slums of London. You might want to shut your curtains,” came a voice. Xander proceeded to close them, motioning me to do the same.

“I’ve seen the slums of India. I’m sure I can handle anything London might have,” I stated, my chin held high. Xander sighed, nodding while sitting back in his seat.

“Tell me more about Spence.”

“It’ll make you a proper lady,” Xander stated dismissively.

“Oh? And what makes a proper lady?”

“A man wants a woman who will make life easy for him. She should be attractive, well groomed, knowledgeable in music, painting, and running a house; but above all, she should keep his name above scandal and never call attention to herself.”
I waited for a moment, hoping he was joking, waiting for him to smile and laugh but it never came. He was serious.

“Mother was Father’s equal,” I say coldly. “He didn’t expect her to walk behind him like some pining imbecile.”

The smug smile he had been wearing faded slightly, but it was soon back at full force. “And look where it got us!” It was silent for a moment and all I could hear were the clip clops of hoof prints and my heart pounding in my ears. “Buffy,” Xander stopped for a moment, his voice cracking. He took a deep breath and looked at me again. “Elizabeth, that day with mother… why the devil did you run away? What were you thinking?” I shrugged from my spot, looking out the window as young children spun around in circles, laughing and smiling.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you know that man that they found murdered with mother?” he asked, looking at me. Again I shrugged, not paying any attention to him. “Sarita said you were in hysterics when she and the police found you. They said you were going on about a boy and visions of some sort.”

When I look down at my hands, I notice they are shaking. I should tell him. I could tell him. Tell him my fears of what has been happening to me. What I’ve been keeping locked inside. I looked at him and in his eyes I could see the brother that I once new. The one that would scare the monsters from under my bed and tell my stories of jewels, knights, and princesses. It’s then that I want to confess everything to him. Tell him of the vision I had. Tell him that I think I shall go mad if I don’t find out what has happened to me soon.
He cleared his throat, looking at me with uncertainty. “What I mean is did something happen to you? Did he? Are you alright?”

It’s when his words sink into me that I realize what he is talking about. Am I chaste? Still ripe for the picking? “Yes Xander, I am alright. I am fine. He did not deflower me in any way. I am great!” I state with fake joy. It’s a lie. I am anything but alright. But everything in this world is a lie – an illusion to what is truly there.

Xander straightens his shoulders and looks at me, relieved. “Ok then.” He takes a moment, before the brother I knew disappears and is replaced by a man who has to be in control. “Buffy, Mother’s murder is a blight on this family. It would scandalous if the true facts were known.” He stares at me, long and hard. “Mother died of cholera,” he states emphatically, as if he know believe the lie he has told himself and is now telling me. “I know you disagree but as your brother, I’m telling you that the less said, the better. It’s for your own protection.”

No, it’s for your own bloody protection I feel like spatting back at him for his lack of emotion but I don’t. I know what he’s saying is true but that doesn’t mean I hate him any less. Instead, we sit in uneasy silence, waiting for the other to talk but neither of us does.

I turn to my window instead, looking as children are now replaced by drunken men and whorish women selling their bodies. I crinkle my nose in disgust as I don’t understand how anyone would ever want a life such as that. But then I scold myself when I know they have neither the choice nor the caliber to be greater then what they are for their stations are low and shall be till death.

Then, the carriage stops as the driver tries to persuade a drunken couple to get out of the road. My brother looks out his window and yells something at our driver but I am oblivious to all that is happening. My fingers begin to tingle and my head feels dizzy and I know it’s another vision. I try to call out for my brother, try to scream but no sound will come. I try to grasp for him but I am sure he still has his head outside the window yelling.

I am falling into darkness and just as quickly I am stepping outside of my carriage, out onto the stone cobbled sidewalk. I look up to see a young girl running her fingers through a small dolls string hair. “Isn’t my dolly pretty?” She doesn’t look at me and continues to stroke her dolls hair.

“You can see me?” I ask, looking at the young girl with wonder. She nods smiling.

“She’s looking for you.”

“Who?”

“Mary.”

“Mary? Mary who?”

“She sent me to find you. But we have to be careful. It’s looking for you too.” The air suddenly becomes cold against my skin, chilling it, sending small bumps up my pale arms.

“Who are you?”

Behind the girl, something moves in the murky dark. I blink my eyes but it is no trick – the shadows are moving. It forms, a skeletal face taking shape, black holes that seem to go on forever in place of where eyes should be. I let out a breathy moan as it beacons me. “Come to us, my pretty, my pretty. . .”

“Run,” I say but it comes as a small whisper. The thing slinking towards me in a snake like motion makes my blood run cold. A scream is straining in my throat but I know if I should let it out it would go on forever. “Run,” I say again, stronger than the last.

The thing stops, sniffing the air for something. The little girl turns to me, her big brown eyes shining with tears. “Too late,” she whispers clinging to her doll desperately. The thing looks back at me, showing me its long shark vampire-like teeth as it smiles at me. It opens its mouth letting out something which I never wanted to hear again. A horrible high loud screech erupted from his hideous mouth.

“No!” I scream and I soon find myself back in the carriage as if I had never left. As if time hadn’t moved forward when I thought it did. I took a look at my surroundings as sweat beads rolled down my back and in the valley between my small breasts. Soon, I find my head outside the window, glaring at the couple in front of us. “Get out of the bloody way – now!” I yell, snapping the horse’s rump with my shawl. I sit back in my seat, wiping the droplets of sweat from my forehead.

“Good Heavens Elizabeth! Whatever has possessed you?”

“I…” I looked towards the alley. The alley where I saw a little girl. The alley where I was almost killed a few moments ago and it looked like nothing had ever been there, as if there was noting there. As if it was just a normal, dirty alley.

“I say, Elizabeth, are you all right?” Xander asked true concern for me evident in his low voice.

Help me Xand; I’m going mad with visions!

“I just didn’t want us to be late,” I state solemnly, looking back out the window into the crowded streets of London. The sun was setting and people were closing shops as bars began to come to life with drunkards. I sighed, looking out the window, hoping that my new found visions would leave me be.



tbc...

Chapter 2




We had passed many hills with colorful greens and trees that stood tall among the small cottages we passed. The wind was blowing the scent of apples into the carriage as we rode up the final hill towards Spence Boarding School. Xander smiled, looking out the window. He was happy to be rid of me. It’s the only thing I can think of; otherwise why else would he be smiling.

My thoughts were interrupted by the driver slowing his horse down and the voice of a woman. I look out my window to see an old woman smiling. “You’ve come back to me child!”

“Would you please move miss?” the driver called but the woman ignored him.

“You must come to Mother Elena again! I shall read your futures!”

“Miss! Please!” the driver called.

“Have you seen Carolina? You took her and-“ but I couldn’t hear the last thing she said for the driver started off, making her run out of the road and out of danger. I could hear her calling out to me but Xander locked his eyes with mine. I shrugged and he rolled his eyes, looking back out the window and ignoring me. Leaving me to my thoughts about what the woman was talking about.

I fiddle with a stray strand of my long unruly blonde hair as my green eyes glance from side to side. Blackness has begun to creep on the hills and I can see something in the trees. I shake my head, closing my eyes telling myself that there is nothing there but I can’t help it as my heart begins to beat faster in my chest. Nothing is moving I tell myself and yet I seem to know that it is not true.
The driver calls out to us, telling me that we have arrived. It was not as I expected. I was expecting a small cottage where girls in corsets and skirts would play tennis. But it was a tall, big building with overgrown gardens and large lands of rolling hills covered in rich trees that stood tall against the sky like the building. As I look up, I see something in the shadows. It isn’t until we have reached the door that I realize it is a gargoyle, staring manacling at me, smiling at me with its grey stone teeth as it protrudes from the roof. It makes me step back away from the school in disgust. Welcome to Spence. A school where we shall teach you to be a mindless drone unless you are attacked in the middle of the night by the gargoyle in front. We hope you enjoy your stay! I took a step closer to Xander as the driver helped him with my luggage. It wasn’t much, just some dresses, my mothers social diary and my fathers old cricket bat to remind me of his better days. Days when mother was alive.
I push the thought back and close me eyes to stop the stinging and the tears from sliding down my cheeks. Taking a deep breath, I look to see the door opened by a small stout woman with a long face that looked worn. Her brown hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and her grey eyes looked sad as if she had seen everything bad in the world but still held a hint of hope for the future. She did not smile but scowled, looking me up and down. “You must be Ms. Summers. We’ve been expecting you for an hour. Come. Mr. Snyder – our headmaster wishes to speak with you.” I nodded, fallowing the woman up the winding stars. Portraits hang on the walls, faces looking down at me with hard expressions but joyless eyes. At the top, there is a large portrait of a woman that looked to be around forty. Her hair was grey yet mostly dark with bright blue eyes. Her thin lips narrow and her cheeks high. “Ah, Ms. Spence. Lovely woman. She was the old headmistress here.” I nod, thinking how beautiful she must have been.

“She’s very pretty,” I state, smiling gently at her. The corner of her lips curve yet she does not fully smile but her eyes shine brightly as if she approves of me.

We move along the hall in silence until we reach a tall door. The housekeeper beats on the door with meaty fists which is answered by a male voice. “Come in.” She opened the door, leading into a big office, walls covered in books and paintings. A globe sits in the middle with the desk towards the back. At the desk sits a middle age man, working through stacks of paper. “That’s all for now Brigid,” he states in a curt voice, not looking up. Brigid – the housekeeper – smiles lightly at me before leaving the room.
I am left alone with a small man, one who seemed to look nasty and would have fun torturing me for the next couple years of my life. He keeps his head down, continuing on with his work as I stand on the Persian rug and pretend to take notice in a small figurine. I fiddle with my papers, anger and annoyance growing steadily as I look at him. A human being would have offered some tea or at least a chair!
I sigh and concentrate on the small figurine. It was of a milk maid, holding buckets of milk as she sang a sweet song on pink lips with rosy cheeks. It was then that I wished I was the milk maid figurine. So I could sing a song and not have a worry in the world or be tortured by nightmares and visions I don’t understand.

As I was engrossed with the figurine, the small man had stopped working and was starring intently at me, his hands clasped together on the desk. “If you would kindly look up Miss Summers. I know that the figurine is pretty,” he stated, snarling and spitting out the word pretty. “But I don’t think it will engage in conversation with you.” I looked up, immediately regretting so as his beady little eyes roamed over my body as I sat up straight. “Well, aren’t you pretty? You’re looks will get you suitors alone no doubt but are you worthy of Spence?” I could only stare at him, not knowing if I was to talk or not. “And from your silence, some would suspect you a mute. Are you worthy of Spence Miss Summers?”

“Yes sir,” I say my voice steady and firm as I just out my chin in defiance. He couldn’t scare me. I could break him like a twig if I really wanted to, that I was sure of.

“Well then, I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“Oh yes, thank you.”

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

“Brigid saw you in comfortably?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Tick, tick, tick, tock.

“I usually don’t admit new girls at such an advanced age. I find it is harder for them to grow accustomed to the Spence way of life.” One mark against me. “But under such circumstances, I feel it is our Christian duty to make an exception. I am sorry for your loss.”

I don’t say a word, just stare at the little milk maid. She was probably one her way to her mother where it was safe and there was no shadows lurking.

When I don’t say anything, Mr. Snyder continues. “I understand that custom dictated a mourning period for at least a year but I find that suck persistent reminders are not healthy. It keeps us centered on the dead and not the living. I recognize this is unconventional. It is important that you get on here and be on equal footing with the other girls. After all, some of them have been with us for years, far longer than they’ve been with their own families. Spence is rather like a family, one with affection and honor, rules and consequences.” He emphasizes the last word. “Therefore, you will wear the same uniform everyone else wears. I trust this will be acceptable to you?”

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling guilty about leaving my mourning so easily especially when I was the cause of the mourning to begin with. But I so want to just fit in and not stick out.

“Splendid. Now, you will be in the first class with six young ladies also of your age. Breakfast is served promptly at nine o’clock. You will have instruction in French with Mademoiselle LeFarge, drawing with Miss Calender, music with Mr. Giles. I shall direct your lessons in deportment. Prayers are said at six o’clock each evening in the chapel. In fact” – he glances at the mantel clock – “we shall be leaving for the chapel shortly. Dinner fallows at seven. There is free time in the great hall afterward, with all the girls in bed by ten. I think you shall be very happy here, Miss Summers.”

Translation: That is an order.

“Spence has turned out many wonderful young women who’ve gone out to make very good marriages.”

We don’t expect much more from you. Please don’t embarrass us.

“Why, you might even be sitting here in my position some day.”

If you turn out completely unmarriageable, and you don’t end up in an Austrian convent making lace nightgowns.

His smile wavers a bit and I know he is waiting for me to say something charming. Something that will convince him that he isn’t making a mistake in taking in a grief-stricken girl who seems completely unworthy of Spence’s training. Unfortunately for me, I only nod and his smile disappears.

“While you’re here, I can be a solid ally, if you fallow the rules. Or the sword that cuts you into shape if you do not. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes Mr. Snyder.”

“Great. Let me show you around and then we’ll be off for prayers.”




TBC......