If I were Stephenie Meyer would I really be writing fanfiction?
Chapter 2: Freedom
After being dragged around by my fiancé I used the excuse that I was tired at about ten o'clock. He bid me good night with a "good night kiss". If that's not clichéd I don't know what is. The only thing that kept me from not vomiting from his peck on the check was the thought of freedom; it was so close I could almost taste it.
I noticed that I was the first one of my family to leave. My parents and sister, Elizabeth, had not yet left and I knew that both my mother and sister stayed out until the wee hours of the morning and my father, of course, followed suit. Perfect. All Along the carriage ride home I fantasized about what it would be like to be able to make decisions for myself. Once I arrived home I continued dishing out the excuses that I wanted a hot bathe and would then turn in. The servants questioned if they would need my assistance but I refused and gave all of them the rest of the night off. I knew that my family would be mad at that. My mother usually made them tend to her every need especially if she was tired. I didn't regret it though. I was just mad that I wouldn't be able to see her face when she discovered the news.
My idea was simple yet effective. I would join the army. Thousands of men were signing up each day and they needed as many men as they could get until they resorted to drafting. I knew that they would take one look at me and refuse me entrance as I was a woman and women were thought to be weak. I'll show them, I thought. But in order to make the plan work I needed to disguise myself as a man and then sign up. They often turn the other cheek if they see anything suspicious. Like I said they were desperate for able bodies.
First of all I needed to change my appearance. I entered the bathroom and locked the doors cleaned off all of my make-up and smiled brightly at thought of what I was going to do. I grabbed the scissors in one hand and my hair in the other. I brought the scissors up to my hair and began snipping wildly. My hair ended up looking not too bad. The curls from that night were all cut out and my regular straight hair became evident. I ran a finger through my now cropped hair. It was disheveled and in disarray but I actually liked it. After that I had a shower in hope to wash all traces of perfume or other feminine products off of my body. I removed the nail polish from my nails and then went to explore what my father had. I found some aftershave to put on and other scented things.
When I figured that I looked like a boy I needed to do something about my clothes. I owned many elaborate ball gowns and jewelry that accented my features perfectly, but I did not own a single pair of pants to my name. This resorted in me digging through my father's possessions once more. Although I did feel more than slightly guilty, I knew it had to be done in order to join the army. I found pair upon pair of intricately hand made pants with bright colors and buttons found only on China's black market. The problem was I needed plain pants; I needed to blend in with the other men and be accepted by other people. It would only be that much harder if they knew I was rich. They would resent me and isolation was something I was trying to run away from, not look for. At last I found a pair of royal blue cashmere pants. Honestly, they were the worse pants of his I could find. The only problem was that although my father was a slender man I was an even more slender women. So I resorted in cutting the ends of the pants and getting a piece of rope to use as a belt. I thought that would make me look poorer than using one of my father's fine leather belts.
I riffled through his shirts to find that most of them were imprinted with our family crest. I snorted, probably my mother's doing, I thought bitterly. I resorted to going through his pajama drawer to find most of the things he had were better than our butler's, Jacob's, finest shirts. Jake, I thought. I grabbed a large sunhat incase I were to be caught and creaked open the door to my parents bedroom and looked right and left. It was dark and quiet. I tiptoed my way across the estate in search of Jacob's living quarters. Finally I found it; after a few close encounters. I peered through the keyhole and it looked as if no one were in the room. I opened the door to find Jake reading quietly in the corner of the room. He was my age yet already working.
"Bella." He greeted me with a slightly surprised tone. Oh my god, I thought.
"Jake." I greeted him back. Stay cool Bella, I said to myself. Thank god I wore that hat.
As if he had read my mind he replied. "Nice hat."
"Thanks." I said but it sounded more like a question.
"What can I do for you Madame?" He asked with a slight twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face. Jacob knew I hated when people would refer to me as better then themselves.
I scoffed and said, "Ms. Swan (I still refuse to call her mom) needs your assistance in the East Wing." Wow, that was lame.
He raised his eyebrows. "Whatever for?"
"No clue." Honestly.
"If you would excuse me." He bowed before he left; laughing when he saw me roll my eyes.
Sorry Jake, I thought to myself when I grabbed one of his old shirts. I knew it would fit because Jacob had always been a rather lanky boy. Although I had cheated, lied, and stolen so many times that night that I lost count I still felt shame when taking Jake's shirt. I always liked Jacob; he was a nice fellow and would treat me as an equal. He was the closest thing to a friend I had. Still, I took the shirt because a) I needed to in order to get into the army b) Jacob would not mind because c) I left some gold coins in place of the shirt.
Although the shirt hung rather baggy on me it was as good as it was going to get. I took all of the money I had and some of my parents along with the only possession I held dear to me, my grandmother's cross. I had never been one for religion. If God was real why would I be condemned to this fate? What did I do wrong? More importantly why is there poverty, crime, and hate? I didn't understand why someone so powerful, kind, and giving would inflict so much pain and suffering on the world. Although I was labeled a Christian by birth at heart other emotions flickered like a burning candle. No matter how many times my family and the church had try to put out the small yet blazing fire it refused to be snuffed.
Although my thoughts on religion were weaker than my grandmother's, to say the least, it was the last thing she gave me before she died. I loved her so much; she was the only person in my entire family who I could relate to. She was against marrying for money and was twenty-seven when she finally met the man of her dreams and was married. To her parent's relief the man happened to be a duke but nevertheless she loved him and their marriage was a strong one. I admire my grandmother's courage for standing up for what she thought right even though she was standing alone. I often wished I possessed that courage. After all, twenty-seven today is an outrageous age to be married. "So old," the people would whisper as she passed. It's not as if she couldn't hear them it's the fact that she didn't give a damn what they thought.
I grabbed the gold cross and tucked it under my shirt. I then grabbed the money I had from my allowance and I had stolen from my parent's room and placed that into my father's small leather bag I had slung across my torso. This one's for you grandma, I thought.
I tied all of my bedding and clothes together with double knots so it made a sort of rope. I then tied one end of the rope to a leg of my iron bed. That should hold I thought. I threw the other end of the chain of clothing out of the window and proceeded to climb out. It had worked in many books I had read but I'm not stupid I knew that if this didn't work I would either break something or have to climb back in and resort to sneaking out the front door. Just as I was about to climb out of the window I heard a noise.
It seemed to happen in slow motion; the doorknob slowly turned open and I heard a voice.
Okay so please review!
always, dal, evie, and ava