- Who Am I...
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- My Story Is...
It all began as a fairy tale, the whirlwind romance, the charm, the gifts, all happening so fast that before she knew it she was walking down the aisle, flowers were falling and she was saying I do. But flowers wilt and glitter washes away in the rain.
He took her far from her friends, her family long gone she found herself alone in a large house on the banks of Scotland. Surrounded by cold faced servants and endless days of fog and rain. She soon discovered that he was not the man he had seemed. Quick to anger she learned swiftly on how to hide the bruises and how to bite back tears. Crying only made him angrier. He often took his business failings out on her. Then demanded her to service him like a common whore. Degrading her, abusing her leaving her battered and sick. The servants saw but turned blind eyes to her situation, even going so far as to spy on her for him. He was after all the Laird of the Manor.
Weeks passed to months and her inability to conceive became yet another reason for beatings and locking her in her room, allowing her only bread and water. Breaking her down both physically and mentally till she was sure she was going mad. Clothes hung on her frame and she became a ghost, nothing more than a shadow moving silently through the long halls, haunting her bedroom and the grounds when she could.
It was the cook who helped her the most. Old Maud had seen and watched till she could take it no more. She’d help the wee lass escape, damn him if he found out. Smuggling her out one night when storms raged she had plans to see her onto one of her son’s fishing trawlers, there to get her as far away as the small amount of money she had could take her. She was boarding the ship when he arrived skidding to a stop, the expensive car left exposed to the rain as he ran toward them. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I will NEVER allow you to leave.” He raged, and she knew then he spoke the truth. Police arrived and were of course on his side, ready to drag her back, but she had made her mind up. No more. With one last look she dove over the edge of the boat into the churning sea. Sinking into the depths she heard him dive in after her then all went dark.
She awoke to sunlight, warmth and the sound of someone singing. Confused she drew herself up to find she had somehow crossed through to a new place. For a while she thought she was dead but hunger and thirst convinced her otherwise. Clothes stolen, to change out of the ones she had, she travels for now, unsure of what to do next.
The only thing she knows for sure, is she has to keep moving. Because she’s afraid she wasn’t the only one to make it through..
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there is no escape from the prison of your own making..
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