A New Story

I finished Damsel.... However I feel embarrassed about the sappy weird parts that I put in there so I will not be posting the rest of the story. I guess I can email you all the end if you beg me to....
So, I've started a few new stories. This is my favorite one so far.

Sabrina
*****
Sorrow
Mist everywhere
Stuck here
Lonely

Mist everywhere
Lost and cold
Lonely
Why?

Lost and cold
Searching for justice
Why?
Stuck here

The carriage traveled up the fog covered road to the Victorian style home that lay deep in the woods by a cold, glittering lake. My parents were friends of Sabrina’s parents. She and I had been sweethearts before… We didn’t like to talk about it, especially not me. The day felt damp and dreary which was normal for New Hampshire. We passed the tree which Sabrina and I had carved our initials into. I looked away, not wanting to be reminded of the past. Suddenly, the carriage stopped and my parents and I got out of the velvet seated carriage. I stared up at the cream colored house and the gray shingles. My gaze caught on the turret. The white lacy curtain rustled a bit and I heard Mr. and Mrs. Colston making their way down the creaky stairs of Wood Lilly Place. True to the house’s name, the delicate orange and red flowers bloomed in planters on the wrap around porch. Mr. and Mrs. Colston finally appeared on the porch. Mrs. Colston shouted half heartedly, “Well, come on in! We won’t bite!” with a weak smile. I followed my parents in. The house still smelled like damp wood and honeysuckle. Mother pulled off her calf skin gloves and dropped them onto the small table. She then removed her feathered hat and set it next to my father’s top hat. I studied the foyer quietly. There was no sign that Sabrina had ever lived here. The picture of her that I’d painted was gone but in its place was a spot whiter than the rest of the wall. I numbly followed the older people into the library to have tea. My mother murmured, “Ethel, we’ll be here as long as you need us. I know this has been hard for you.” Mrs. Colston nodded somberly and continued pouring the tea. My father and Mr. Colston were engaged in some conversation about poker or something. I took a sip of the bland tea and hardly noticed when it burned my tongue on the way down. “So Henry, dear, how have things been down at the University?” Mrs. Colston asked. I shrugged and offered her a noncommittal smile. Mrs. Colston frowned a little and then announced, “Well, if you’re all ready, we’ll show you up to your rooms.” We all stood up and followed Sabrina’s parents up the creaky stairs. The rest of them walked past the third room on the right but I stopped and peered in. I remembered tip toeing up the stairs with Sabrina so she could show me her poetry in this room. Everything was as it had been that day. There was still a fountain pen lying on the elegant white desk with paper strewn all about. There was a jar of violets sitting before the window and the sheets on the four poster bed looked rumpled and unmade just as if she had woken and had taken a walk and would come back. I was startled by a hand on my shoulder and whirled around. Mr. Colston glared at me and closed the door. Then, he led me to the room on the end. It was rather plain but homey. I sank down on the bed and thought about my lovely Sabrina Colston. I pictured her in my mind. Wide pale green eyes framed by thick black lashes. Her mouth set in a pretty smile. Her beautiful curly, raven hair falling around her shoulders perfectly and a strand of pearls would hang around her long, slender neck. She would be wearing a dark green off the shoulder dress with a white floral pattern. A pen would be tucked behind her ear. I sighed and wished that I was back at home. Then, I wouldn’t be plagued by these constant memories.
The next day I woke feeling dazed. My room was filled with the scent of violets and roses, like Sabrina’s favorite perfume. I sat up and suddenly, the scent was gone with a cold draft. I sighed quietly and got dressed for the day. I had the eerie sensation that I was not alone but I quickly pushed it aside.

Sabrina
*****
My love
He’s back
He needs to know
I am here

He’s back
I miss him
I am here
He doesn’t know

I miss him
I love him
He doesn’t know
I need his help.

A few days passed until the Colstons and my parents decided they wanted to go into town for something. They headed off in the carriage and left me alone in Wood Lilly Place. I sat in my room imagining that I could hear Sabrina’s laugh echoing downstairs. But, I realized that it was all nonsense and went down to eat some breakfast. I saw that they had left me a few biscuits with honey and some tea. I ate them and decided to look around. I walked down the pristine white hallways, my shoes loud on the dark wood floor. I stopped in the music room. A shiny golden harp sat by the window. The room was a hexagonal shape as it was part of the turret. In the center of the room, a sheet had been thrown off of the piano. There were chairs and sofas lining the walls. I took a candle from its place by the door and lit it. The room looked eerie in the sudden light. I took a seat on the nearest sofa and I stared at the smooth, black piano.
Suddenly, the first six notes of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata burst out of the piano. It had been one of Sabrina’s favorites. My breath caught in my throat. They were played again this time, very slowly. Had I imagined it? For a moment, I was frozen with shock but then, I quickly got up and ran out of the room, candle still in my hand. I ran down the hall until I reached the end of it and stopped to catch my breath. After my heart slowed to its normal rate I realized that I was being silly. Being back here must’ve caused me to imagine the piano playing, or maybe it had, and they just had some sort of piano that played itself. I wiped my sweaty palms on my trousers and carefully avoided the music room. I nodded to Gertie, Sabrina’s old nursemaid passing by in the hall. She looked at me with wide eyes and quickened her pace.
I frowned and entered what used to be a small ballroom. There, I saw the painting I’d done of Sabrina. In the painting, she was sitting in a meadow surrounded by lilac, wood lilies, violets, and evening primroses. Her white lacy dress billowed out around her in the lush grass. She gazed at me, the viewer, happily and a small smile played on her lips. I wrenched my gaze away and saw that there were journals and books littering the floor. I picked one up and read the heading written in Sabrina’s freestyle script. “Summer of 1847”. We had been sixteen then. Sabrina and I had known each other since we were eight years old. I gently set it back down and backed out of the room. Then, I gingerly walked up the stairs and went into my room to spend a long day alone.

Sabrina
*****
Moonlight Sonata
I used to play it
For him
Romantic but sad

I used to play it
Heart wrenching
Romantic but sad
He left

Heart wrenching
He recognized
He left
Moonlight Sonata.


The next few days passed without incident at the house. I started to feel restless though and decided to take a walk in the woods. Maybe I wouldn’t think about her there. Before I left I took my sketchbook, watercolor paints, and pencil. I hollered a good bye to the quiet house and closed the pristine white door with a thump. I wandered down the drive and then down the little path leading further into the forest. It was sunny although the light had a green tint to it because of the dense trees overhead. I paused to sketch a beam of sunlight landing on a violet surrounded by the trees. I let my mind wander as I drew the scene with quick precise strokes. I finished and looked at my work. I cried out as I saw what I had drawn. Very faintly in the background, a woman with a long dress was fleeing behind a tree. The woman had long black hair, green eyes….the woman was Sabrina! I crumpled up the drawing and stuffed it in my pocket. I glanced around nervously and moved on. Wood Lilly Place was stressing me out and making me imagine things. After that, I decided to go back to the house. I’d had my fill of fresh air for the day.
I set my crumpled sketch on the table by the door and sat down. All of the sudden, Mrs. Colston appeared from the shadowy corner of the room. She walked over to the table by the door and smoothed out the drawing. Her eyes widened and filled with tears. Her horrified face quickly turned angry.
“What do you think you’re doing, drawing things like that? You won’t do foolish things like this in my home.” She exclaimed. Then she lowered her voice and murmured dangerously, “This has been very hard for us. You’ll not go flaunting Sabrina like that anymore.” She seemed to think for a moment and then whispered, “I keep her room under lock and key but if you’d like, I’ll show it to you. Maybe one day when it’s just you and me. Mr. Colston doesn’t like me going in there and your parents may feel uneasy about it.” She backed away and I slowly climbed up to my room. I had a lot of thinking to do.

Sabrina
*****
Like I’m watching life though a window
I can’t break through
I’ve been erased
No attention paid
To a dead girl.


I was almost certain that Mrs. Colston had gone insane. She winked at me whenever I walked by and that evening a key with a yellow silk tassel on it was lying on my bedside table. She tried to act normal, like everything was okay with the adults. But, I could see the insanity in her eyes. I could see her hands shake under the table and I noticed how she talked to the servants. As if she was constantly threatening them.
I went for three days without thinking of lovely Sabrina. Three bland, routine days before she entered my mind. I thought that maybe if I visited her, I would be rid of all the ghastly imaginings and memories. I left before anyone other than the hired help was awake. I saddled one of Mr. Colston’s stallions and picked a small bouquet of violets and roses. I rode surrounded by trees. It was foggy and chills ran down my spine. I rode for about a mile before I came to the Colston family graveyard. I wandered through the overgrown headstones until I reached one with flowers and a pen carved into it. It read,

Sabrina Colston
May 17, 1831-January 12, 1848
In our hearts forever

I laid the bouquet down on her grave and wished that she was here with me, not stuck in the damp ground. I let tears flow freely now. I missed Sabrina so much. She hadn’t deserved to die. She was my one love and seeing her had been my salvation. Now, my life was pointless.
I remember the day that Sabrina died. I had been there. She’d been ill for a month. No one knew the cause or even the illness. She’d told me to come back, no matter what and then she’d died. Her face had looked like it had when she was well and she’d only looked like she was sleeping. Even now in Wood Lilly Place, it seemed like she’d gone on a trip and would be back. Her presence never left. She was always there.

Sabrina
*****
I try to get them to realize
They’re so clueless
Mother’s crazy
Father’s like a stone
Henry is heartbroken
I’m alone