Member
I still remember the world
From the eyes of a child…
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now…
Memories –
They could be such wonderful things just as much as they could become torturous and repetitive. They could either send a person into euphoria, remembering all that was once overwhelming in delight , or they could come crashing down around them in the never-ending waves of pain that continued to dig through open wounds. They'd been few and far – the good memories all the while the others were overbearing and would never seem to fade no matter how much she'd tried to fight them; no matter how much she'd lied to herself in an effort to alter them; to get her to believe in something altogether different. Perhaps a lie would help her sleep throughout the rest of her nights into her days. Perhaps that lie would bring her some peace.
If only she could make herself believe in it.
What had been left in the wake of that memory was the shell of a girl that she once was. No more was she the sweet, young woman whom only sought out to make her dreams a reality throughout the demanding world of her father – that girl had been long gone, murdered and the pieces scattered throughout the warm sand of the shore that she'd once been left upon. What had been left behind was a bitter young female intent on causing hell wherever she'd gone. If she had to suffer each and every night in her own personal hell, then she was committed to making others around her feel her pain. Perhaps it had been much to the dismay of her own tutor whom had taken her in – she'd taking a liking to personally torment him with how difficult she'd become. Eventually, she'd assumed, he would leave her just as quick as she once was left – and she was determined to push him as far away as she could.
It only frustrated her further that he continued to stay – and not only that, but doted on her to try and make her as happy as she once was. He should have understood, at least by then, that it was a lost cause.
She could hardly help it. Clara Emerson was once a young girl of privilege, trapped in a society that forced its beliefs and patterns upon her. Had it been up to them, she would have been married to whoever held the best title and whoever could secure a future for herself and her own family. Love was not an option – hell, even friendship was hardly an option. If love did form out of the marriage between the two, it was either out of sheer luck or simply dealing with one another for long enough that something eventually fell into place.
The years had come and gone and Clara had hardly given anyone the time of day. There was no one suitable enough for her; no one that she could share her passions with; share her dreams. She'd wanted to travel the world; wanted to see much of what was out there instead of being locked up as someone's silent wife, reproducing on a whim to keep the family strong and full. She did not want to be trapped in her own hell of a home with a man whom she did not and could not love – a man who would snuff out her dreams the very moment they'd said their vows.
That was not a future that she'd wanted, and Clara had fought it tooth and nail until her father was no longer able to bend to her whims. It was already bad enough that she'd reached 18 and had yet to marry – the people in town had begun to talk and it eventually found its way upon her father's ear. There had been rumors that she must have been barren – that no man had wanted a wife that old, especially one who could not produce the heir to the family. There were also rumors that she'd been mad – lost away in a fantasy world of her books and library – what man would want a woman who sought out more knowledge than he had known himself? Or maybe it was that she was just a rotten female, one who could not keep the company of whichever man sought to have her hand. Regardless of the rumor, regardless of how harsh they could be, her father would soon have none of that nonsense floating around his family name.
It was only a matter of time before her borrowed time would come to an end – she could see him unraveling, coming undone right before her very eyes before he'd lost his patience with her one last time.
"You listen to me, girl. I've given you ample time – I've given you every little thing your heart desires and yet you still do not take a husband. I know you hear them – everyone out there talking about you, talking about me! This cannot go on any longer, Clara. You will allow the Duke to court you come morning, and you will marry him – You have no choice. Do you want to continue destroying our family name? He will be able to provide for you, and in turn, the family will be secure in our own future as well. Do you understand?! "
Clara had understood full well. She'd understood that the world around her was collapsing with each panicked breath that left her chest the moment her father had walked out of that room. She was fully aware of what was to meet her the next morning; of what life was promised should she marry that awful man. She'd nearly felt her heart fall from her chest and onto the floor in front of her as she fought to calm herself from the inevitable fear and panic of what the future held for her. It was nothing that she wanted, and she needed to run – she needed to get far away from it, from her father, from everyone who could say anything about her. Let them talk in her absence, but she would never allow them to say it to her face.
Where has my heart gone?
An uneven trade for the real world
Oh I… I want to go back to
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all…
It was within that fright and overwhelming anxiety that Clara found herself in her room in an instant, packing whatever she could into a bag. Clothes, photos, anything that might hold some sentimental value that she did not want to leave behind. She hadn't a plan or idea in the world what she was doing – all she knew was that she needed to get away, and fast. The quicker she ran, the father she could get without her father sending someone out to fetch her. She was aware of the dangers of running; of the risk she put herself at – a mere young girl out in the darkness of the night with hardly an idea on how to defend herself, whether it be from creature or man. She'd no idea where she was going or where she was going to end up – she just knew she needed to vanish..
Little did she know, it really would be the last time she'd spoken to her father or her family.
Her quick steps had led her through the chill of the night under cover of her cloak. She'd ran without taking a break- the loud sounds of her heels echoing against the cobblestone with each hurried step, the only sounds that reached her ears. There were others, eventually tumbling out of the taverns late at night; others who had been left to rot in the alleyways, unable to fend for themselves any longer. There were others who could have seen her as a piece of meat, and perhaps would have gone after her had the drunken few not been around.
Clara had ignored them all.
Her steps had eventually led her to softer ground, soon the calming sounds of the ocean against her ears instead of the offending drunkards and whistles of the night. It was here that she'd finally stopped; finally had taken a breath regardless of the fact that her lungs had felt as if they'd ignited in flames.
It was here that she'd made the worst decision of her life.
Clara hadn't noticed him at first – she'd felt entirely overwhelmed by not only the decision that she'd just made on a whim, but the sudden uncertainty of what was to come. She'd felt the tears pull at the corner of her eyes as she brushed them away fervently. She'd barely felt herself head even closer to the dark waters ahead before her shoes had slipped off and she felt the cold around her feet; felt the water dragging down the edges of her skirts.
It had been his touch that had awoken her from her stupor, the sudden gentle hand against her back almost only there to startle her into the present once more. And oddly enough, she hadn't run – no, she'd done enough running then, Clara determined. Something had kept her planted there, the sand shifting beneath her feet just as each wave came up around her toes. She'd known nothing of the mistakes that she'd already made that night – all of it seemed so very far away just as suddenly as that man had entered into her life.
What had followed still had her questioning its reality centuries down the road. The conversations; the comfort – something about the male had her calm and forgetful of her sudden fears; he made her believe it would all be alright; that her decision to run had not been as much of a mistake as it had been a gift.
Hours had felt like minutes upon that beach – basking in each other's presence, her wonder almost child-like over the man who seemed to want to stay within her company more than any other from the town whom had wanted to court her. Where had he been all of this time she'd been worrying; panicking about the future her father would force upon her? Was he even real – or had this all been a hopeful dream that she'd been thrust into after the exhaustion of her father's revelation?
Words had eventually melted into actions – everything she could have ever hoped for had been there, in him. Perhaps that was why she was able to give herself over so freely – why it hadn't even been a mere doubt in her mind – the passion suddenly between them. She could remember the euphoria, remember the feel of the heat between them, the sand against her skin, the absolute abandon that she'd felt with him all at once – and yet, she also could remember the sudden pain that melted into all of it – and the sudden sense of absolute loneliness and fear once she did awake in someone else's arms.
I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back.
Somehow it seems colder now…
If her tutor had not been around that night, she knew her existence would have been short. Clara would have either died on the beach that night, victim to her own new hunger and the incapability to satiate it the way she needed to. She would have gone back into that down and ripped it apart person by person if she'd been allowed to – until someone had destroyed her just as quickly… But he'd been there for her; there to pick her up and take her in; train her the way she needed to be trained… But it just never was what she'd needed – nothing could fill the ache that she'd always felt lingering in her soul – something had been missing after that night and it was the one thing her tutor could never give her.
-
Clara felt a slow sigh fall from her painted lips as she looked up at the mansion ahead of her. Soft music was already lifting through opened windows and doors and she'd felt her body tense. Another night of endless parties that her tutor had dragged her along to. Perhaps he'd thought the interactions with others would cheer her up. All these parties had continued to do was remind her of the void within her. No matter how many dances she'd partaken in; no matter how many mindless conversations or glasses of wine to warm her – nothing would put an end to that damned ache within her – no matter how much she'd tried to make others feel it; no matter how much she tried to make them suffer like she had… No one understood.
Her bright green eyes glared upon the offending house as she felt her tutor's arm slip into hers. "Come now, darling. Try to enjoy yourself tonight." His words were soft against her ear, but she hadn't looked at him. She'd merely taken one step in a time as he'd led her to the front doors. "You might as well give it the hell up." Clara reminded him with a hiss, receiving only a sigh from the man next to her.
She knew it was bound to happen, but her tutor had eventually broken away from her and she was thankful for it. She'd made a beeline to find a glass of wine, weaving through the multiple colors of skirts and suits that had been so happily chattering and dancing away. Masquerades hadn't necessarily been her thing – hell, parties weren't entirely her thing – but at least here she could play the part. Here, she could be whomever she wanted, hiding behind a black mask of lace. There were plenty of strangers here, plenty of people she could manipulate if she'd wanted to – it would be a game of cat and mouse.
As Clara found a glass, she'd lifted the dark liquid to her lips slowly, her steps taking her towards one of the far walls to observe the crowds around her. She'd idly toyed with the blue silk of her skirts, the beading that lined her corset, before her fingers found their way to the pendant around her neck. Why it remained there was truly beyond her; why she hadn't tossed it into the ocean that night was more of a mystery to her than anything. He'd left it for her – the only damn thing she had left of that one night that had changed everything. He'd stolen it all from her; her life, her innocence, her dreams – and left only a god damn necklace in his wake. If she had it her way; if her tutor would cease all of this nonsense in trying to distract her, she would search for him during every waking moment; she would make him pay for the hell that he'd made her live; for the broken promises; for all of the pain he'd caused her.
The frown continued to curl against her lips as she took in the sights, the loud music upon her ears as she'd watched countless bodies swirl and bend to the music in sync. It was going to be one hell of a long night… And she needed to find some form of entertainment should she choose to stay.
Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything.
From the eyes of a child…
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now…
Memories –
They could be such wonderful things just as much as they could become torturous and repetitive. They could either send a person into euphoria, remembering all that was once overwhelming in delight , or they could come crashing down around them in the never-ending waves of pain that continued to dig through open wounds. They'd been few and far – the good memories all the while the others were overbearing and would never seem to fade no matter how much she'd tried to fight them; no matter how much she'd lied to herself in an effort to alter them; to get her to believe in something altogether different. Perhaps a lie would help her sleep throughout the rest of her nights into her days. Perhaps that lie would bring her some peace.
If only she could make herself believe in it.
What had been left in the wake of that memory was the shell of a girl that she once was. No more was she the sweet, young woman whom only sought out to make her dreams a reality throughout the demanding world of her father – that girl had been long gone, murdered and the pieces scattered throughout the warm sand of the shore that she'd once been left upon. What had been left behind was a bitter young female intent on causing hell wherever she'd gone. If she had to suffer each and every night in her own personal hell, then she was committed to making others around her feel her pain. Perhaps it had been much to the dismay of her own tutor whom had taken her in – she'd taking a liking to personally torment him with how difficult she'd become. Eventually, she'd assumed, he would leave her just as quick as she once was left – and she was determined to push him as far away as she could.
It only frustrated her further that he continued to stay – and not only that, but doted on her to try and make her as happy as she once was. He should have understood, at least by then, that it was a lost cause.
She could hardly help it. Clara Emerson was once a young girl of privilege, trapped in a society that forced its beliefs and patterns upon her. Had it been up to them, she would have been married to whoever held the best title and whoever could secure a future for herself and her own family. Love was not an option – hell, even friendship was hardly an option. If love did form out of the marriage between the two, it was either out of sheer luck or simply dealing with one another for long enough that something eventually fell into place.
The years had come and gone and Clara had hardly given anyone the time of day. There was no one suitable enough for her; no one that she could share her passions with; share her dreams. She'd wanted to travel the world; wanted to see much of what was out there instead of being locked up as someone's silent wife, reproducing on a whim to keep the family strong and full. She did not want to be trapped in her own hell of a home with a man whom she did not and could not love – a man who would snuff out her dreams the very moment they'd said their vows.
That was not a future that she'd wanted, and Clara had fought it tooth and nail until her father was no longer able to bend to her whims. It was already bad enough that she'd reached 18 and had yet to marry – the people in town had begun to talk and it eventually found its way upon her father's ear. There had been rumors that she must have been barren – that no man had wanted a wife that old, especially one who could not produce the heir to the family. There were also rumors that she'd been mad – lost away in a fantasy world of her books and library – what man would want a woman who sought out more knowledge than he had known himself? Or maybe it was that she was just a rotten female, one who could not keep the company of whichever man sought to have her hand. Regardless of the rumor, regardless of how harsh they could be, her father would soon have none of that nonsense floating around his family name.
It was only a matter of time before her borrowed time would come to an end – she could see him unraveling, coming undone right before her very eyes before he'd lost his patience with her one last time.
"You listen to me, girl. I've given you ample time – I've given you every little thing your heart desires and yet you still do not take a husband. I know you hear them – everyone out there talking about you, talking about me! This cannot go on any longer, Clara. You will allow the Duke to court you come morning, and you will marry him – You have no choice. Do you want to continue destroying our family name? He will be able to provide for you, and in turn, the family will be secure in our own future as well. Do you understand?! "
Clara had understood full well. She'd understood that the world around her was collapsing with each panicked breath that left her chest the moment her father had walked out of that room. She was fully aware of what was to meet her the next morning; of what life was promised should she marry that awful man. She'd nearly felt her heart fall from her chest and onto the floor in front of her as she fought to calm herself from the inevitable fear and panic of what the future held for her. It was nothing that she wanted, and she needed to run – she needed to get far away from it, from her father, from everyone who could say anything about her. Let them talk in her absence, but she would never allow them to say it to her face.
Where has my heart gone?
An uneven trade for the real world
Oh I… I want to go back to
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all…
It was within that fright and overwhelming anxiety that Clara found herself in her room in an instant, packing whatever she could into a bag. Clothes, photos, anything that might hold some sentimental value that she did not want to leave behind. She hadn't a plan or idea in the world what she was doing – all she knew was that she needed to get away, and fast. The quicker she ran, the father she could get without her father sending someone out to fetch her. She was aware of the dangers of running; of the risk she put herself at – a mere young girl out in the darkness of the night with hardly an idea on how to defend herself, whether it be from creature or man. She'd no idea where she was going or where she was going to end up – she just knew she needed to vanish..
Little did she know, it really would be the last time she'd spoken to her father or her family.
Her quick steps had led her through the chill of the night under cover of her cloak. She'd ran without taking a break- the loud sounds of her heels echoing against the cobblestone with each hurried step, the only sounds that reached her ears. There were others, eventually tumbling out of the taverns late at night; others who had been left to rot in the alleyways, unable to fend for themselves any longer. There were others who could have seen her as a piece of meat, and perhaps would have gone after her had the drunken few not been around.
Clara had ignored them all.
Her steps had eventually led her to softer ground, soon the calming sounds of the ocean against her ears instead of the offending drunkards and whistles of the night. It was here that she'd finally stopped; finally had taken a breath regardless of the fact that her lungs had felt as if they'd ignited in flames.
It was here that she'd made the worst decision of her life.
Clara hadn't noticed him at first – she'd felt entirely overwhelmed by not only the decision that she'd just made on a whim, but the sudden uncertainty of what was to come. She'd felt the tears pull at the corner of her eyes as she brushed them away fervently. She'd barely felt herself head even closer to the dark waters ahead before her shoes had slipped off and she felt the cold around her feet; felt the water dragging down the edges of her skirts.
It had been his touch that had awoken her from her stupor, the sudden gentle hand against her back almost only there to startle her into the present once more. And oddly enough, she hadn't run – no, she'd done enough running then, Clara determined. Something had kept her planted there, the sand shifting beneath her feet just as each wave came up around her toes. She'd known nothing of the mistakes that she'd already made that night – all of it seemed so very far away just as suddenly as that man had entered into her life.
What had followed still had her questioning its reality centuries down the road. The conversations; the comfort – something about the male had her calm and forgetful of her sudden fears; he made her believe it would all be alright; that her decision to run had not been as much of a mistake as it had been a gift.
Hours had felt like minutes upon that beach – basking in each other's presence, her wonder almost child-like over the man who seemed to want to stay within her company more than any other from the town whom had wanted to court her. Where had he been all of this time she'd been worrying; panicking about the future her father would force upon her? Was he even real – or had this all been a hopeful dream that she'd been thrust into after the exhaustion of her father's revelation?
Words had eventually melted into actions – everything she could have ever hoped for had been there, in him. Perhaps that was why she was able to give herself over so freely – why it hadn't even been a mere doubt in her mind – the passion suddenly between them. She could remember the euphoria, remember the feel of the heat between them, the sand against her skin, the absolute abandon that she'd felt with him all at once – and yet, she also could remember the sudden pain that melted into all of it – and the sudden sense of absolute loneliness and fear once she did awake in someone else's arms.
I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back.
Somehow it seems colder now…
If her tutor had not been around that night, she knew her existence would have been short. Clara would have either died on the beach that night, victim to her own new hunger and the incapability to satiate it the way she needed to. She would have gone back into that down and ripped it apart person by person if she'd been allowed to – until someone had destroyed her just as quickly… But he'd been there for her; there to pick her up and take her in; train her the way she needed to be trained… But it just never was what she'd needed – nothing could fill the ache that she'd always felt lingering in her soul – something had been missing after that night and it was the one thing her tutor could never give her.
-
Clara felt a slow sigh fall from her painted lips as she looked up at the mansion ahead of her. Soft music was already lifting through opened windows and doors and she'd felt her body tense. Another night of endless parties that her tutor had dragged her along to. Perhaps he'd thought the interactions with others would cheer her up. All these parties had continued to do was remind her of the void within her. No matter how many dances she'd partaken in; no matter how many mindless conversations or glasses of wine to warm her – nothing would put an end to that damned ache within her – no matter how much she'd tried to make others feel it; no matter how much she tried to make them suffer like she had… No one understood.
Her bright green eyes glared upon the offending house as she felt her tutor's arm slip into hers. "Come now, darling. Try to enjoy yourself tonight." His words were soft against her ear, but she hadn't looked at him. She'd merely taken one step in a time as he'd led her to the front doors. "You might as well give it the hell up." Clara reminded him with a hiss, receiving only a sigh from the man next to her.
She knew it was bound to happen, but her tutor had eventually broken away from her and she was thankful for it. She'd made a beeline to find a glass of wine, weaving through the multiple colors of skirts and suits that had been so happily chattering and dancing away. Masquerades hadn't necessarily been her thing – hell, parties weren't entirely her thing – but at least here she could play the part. Here, she could be whomever she wanted, hiding behind a black mask of lace. There were plenty of strangers here, plenty of people she could manipulate if she'd wanted to – it would be a game of cat and mouse.
As Clara found a glass, she'd lifted the dark liquid to her lips slowly, her steps taking her towards one of the far walls to observe the crowds around her. She'd idly toyed with the blue silk of her skirts, the beading that lined her corset, before her fingers found their way to the pendant around her neck. Why it remained there was truly beyond her; why she hadn't tossed it into the ocean that night was more of a mystery to her than anything. He'd left it for her – the only damn thing she had left of that one night that had changed everything. He'd stolen it all from her; her life, her innocence, her dreams – and left only a god damn necklace in his wake. If she had it her way; if her tutor would cease all of this nonsense in trying to distract her, she would search for him during every waking moment; she would make him pay for the hell that he'd made her live; for the broken promises; for all of the pain he'd caused her.
The frown continued to curl against her lips as she took in the sights, the loud music upon her ears as she'd watched countless bodies swirl and bend to the music in sync. It was going to be one hell of a long night… And she needed to find some form of entertainment should she choose to stay.
Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything.