Dear Lois
This is a letter from a story that I wrote. It has been edited recently, but mostly I just added stuff, there might still be some technical errors.
Dear Lois,
I hope that the world is not falling for you, as you said it might be when I left. I laughed, I remember, when you said that. But really, I think I see what you may have meant. Things are not going so well while we are apart are they?
I no longer fear hell. I am here. It isn’t hell in the conventional way, but I feel it must be just as horrible. Lillian has been crying in her room for the last half an hour. I don’t even understand why she is crying. Georgiana can’t even speak as far as I can tell. She has been staring at the table in the sitting room since mother went to bed. It’s getting late, and she never stays up too long. I can see her from atop the Juliet balcony above the stairs in the entry hall. You remember the stairs don’t you? Remember when I walked down them and you saw me for the first time. I wish I could walk down those stairs right now and suddenly have my life changed forever like it was that day I met you. But I fear if I walk down them, I might stir Georgiana. I am afraid that any second she will suddenly stand up and go upstairs, wash her face, and get ready for bed. I don’t want to see her sitting in her room and brushing her hair like she does every night. I don’t want her to go back to normal like she always does when mother does something so horrific. She seems to be having some reaction this time, even if it is just sitting there, at least she is letting herself know that everything is not ok. The clock says it’s eleven. I can hardly believe it. It feels like the evening has just started. This makes me fear that maybe it has. I would not be surprised if everything started getting worse. Not in this house. I know things will never be the same now.
I miss you. So much. I want you to be here. I want to tell everyone that we are getting married and then everyone can celebrate, and Lillian can com out of her room, and Georgiana can stop staring in the sitting room. And she can be excited with us, and then at the wedding she can tell mother that she is marrying Peter, even though he is poor and mother disapproves. And then we can go on our honeymoon and we will look glorious. And then we can have children, a little boy and a little girl, and we can raise them with Georgiana and Peter’s children, and then the world will all be ok, and mother will laugh for the first time since father died, when our daughter sneaks into mother’s room and tries on her lipstick, and mother can see that everything will be ok after all.
But I know that will never happen. I could never tell anyone I loved you, let alone marry you. I feel like such a coward for saying it, after what Georgiana just had to tell mother. But our situation is even worse, if it is possible. And I know that Lillian will only come out of her room when breakfast is over, and she can go outside and write letters to her friend Fara, and have the excuse of feeling ill, so she doesn’t have to eat for the 5th time in a row since I arrived here. And Georgiana will only get up from the sitting room when she has decided that everything is really ok, and if she just goes on as if nothing has happened, so will mother, and she can forget that she loves Peter, and lock up her heart again, like she always did when we were children. And we can never have children, because of obvious reasons, and Georgiana will never have Peter’s children, and then they cannot be raised together. And even if our non-existent daughter did sneak into mother’s room and try on that pretty red lipstick mother has worn for as long as I can remember, mother would only be reminded that there are only little girls in her life. Will be reminded that she couldn’t bear father any sons, and that the world is nothing like she wanted it to be. And I fear she will stop at nothing to make it so. Although nothing we could do could really make things ok then, because under the surface everything has gone terribly wrong. And I just want to scream.
But I must go now. I can hear something in the next room. Water, Georgiana is washing her face. And I can hear the scratching of a quill; Lillian’s writing a letter to Fara. And I can see the stairs from where I am sitting. But there is no one at the bottom of them this time.
I fear also that this letter will not reach you, for mother tells the postman to read every letter sent out from this house to her, before he takes it away, so I am paying a man from the town to deliver it to you. He asks only for some whiskey, and some bread. But I fear when he comes to get the letter he will ask for more. I hope you do not worry about me. I will be ok, as I always am when I think of you. Just promise me if I ever just sit like Georgiana is now, that you will remind me that the world will get no better if I just ignore it. If I just ignored my feelings for you everything would be much worse. You are my only love. And I hope I am yours as well.
Love sincerely,
Hannah Bellinger
Dear Lois,
I hope that the world is not falling for you, as you said it might be when I left. I laughed, I remember, when you said that. But really, I think I see what you may have meant. Things are not going so well while we are apart are they?
I no longer fear hell. I am here. It isn’t hell in the conventional way, but I feel it must be just as horrible. Lillian has been crying in her room for the last half an hour. I don’t even understand why she is crying. Georgiana can’t even speak as far as I can tell. She has been staring at the table in the sitting room since mother went to bed. It’s getting late, and she never stays up too long. I can see her from atop the Juliet balcony above the stairs in the entry hall. You remember the stairs don’t you? Remember when I walked down them and you saw me for the first time. I wish I could walk down those stairs right now and suddenly have my life changed forever like it was that day I met you. But I fear if I walk down them, I might stir Georgiana. I am afraid that any second she will suddenly stand up and go upstairs, wash her face, and get ready for bed. I don’t want to see her sitting in her room and brushing her hair like she does every night. I don’t want her to go back to normal like she always does when mother does something so horrific. She seems to be having some reaction this time, even if it is just sitting there, at least she is letting herself know that everything is not ok. The clock says it’s eleven. I can hardly believe it. It feels like the evening has just started. This makes me fear that maybe it has. I would not be surprised if everything started getting worse. Not in this house. I know things will never be the same now.
I miss you. So much. I want you to be here. I want to tell everyone that we are getting married and then everyone can celebrate, and Lillian can com out of her room, and Georgiana can stop staring in the sitting room. And she can be excited with us, and then at the wedding she can tell mother that she is marrying Peter, even though he is poor and mother disapproves. And then we can go on our honeymoon and we will look glorious. And then we can have children, a little boy and a little girl, and we can raise them with Georgiana and Peter’s children, and then the world will all be ok, and mother will laugh for the first time since father died, when our daughter sneaks into mother’s room and tries on her lipstick, and mother can see that everything will be ok after all.
But I know that will never happen. I could never tell anyone I loved you, let alone marry you. I feel like such a coward for saying it, after what Georgiana just had to tell mother. But our situation is even worse, if it is possible. And I know that Lillian will only come out of her room when breakfast is over, and she can go outside and write letters to her friend Fara, and have the excuse of feeling ill, so she doesn’t have to eat for the 5th time in a row since I arrived here. And Georgiana will only get up from the sitting room when she has decided that everything is really ok, and if she just goes on as if nothing has happened, so will mother, and she can forget that she loves Peter, and lock up her heart again, like she always did when we were children. And we can never have children, because of obvious reasons, and Georgiana will never have Peter’s children, and then they cannot be raised together. And even if our non-existent daughter did sneak into mother’s room and try on that pretty red lipstick mother has worn for as long as I can remember, mother would only be reminded that there are only little girls in her life. Will be reminded that she couldn’t bear father any sons, and that the world is nothing like she wanted it to be. And I fear she will stop at nothing to make it so. Although nothing we could do could really make things ok then, because under the surface everything has gone terribly wrong. And I just want to scream.
But I must go now. I can hear something in the next room. Water, Georgiana is washing her face. And I can hear the scratching of a quill; Lillian’s writing a letter to Fara. And I can see the stairs from where I am sitting. But there is no one at the bottom of them this time.
I fear also that this letter will not reach you, for mother tells the postman to read every letter sent out from this house to her, before he takes it away, so I am paying a man from the town to deliver it to you. He asks only for some whiskey, and some bread. But I fear when he comes to get the letter he will ask for more. I hope you do not worry about me. I will be ok, as I always am when I think of you. Just promise me if I ever just sit like Georgiana is now, that you will remind me that the world will get no better if I just ignore it. If I just ignored my feelings for you everything would be much worse. You are my only love. And I hope I am yours as well.
Love sincerely,
Hannah Bellinger
posted by Anonymous Bitch at 6:06 PM
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