I felt it for so long. The burden of expectation. I was to uphold the family legacy, restore their good name.
I’m sorry, mother. You know I was never as strong as my sister.
Now I drift through the halls – nothing holds me here any longer, but where else can I go? My body is two floors below me, in the second chamber of the east wing – so lavishly decorated by William a few days ago. They'll find it tomorrow.
William. What will he think? What will he say? I did think of him, before I proceeded with my plan. There were doubts, there were fears, I almost wavered – would I be condemned to hell, as the dour preachers always said of those who die by their own hand? – yet I did drink the concoction in the end.
It wasn’t the long, drawn-out affair I had feared. I remember feeling sleepy, dazed, unsure of what I was seeing, shapes drfiting across my mind … I felt I saw my sister and wanted to speak with her, but she was too far beyond my reach…
I must have drifted away at some point. Those physical sensations seem so far away now – I have no weight, no flesh, no heart or brain or bones … yet somehow, I am being propelled through the front hall, out to the grand bay window.
I used to dream of escape, defying the customs and laws that kept me bound … and so, I turn my face to the sky.
defy physics.This little fragment of a story – a sad tale indeed that came through tonight – was a response to @daily.prompt's latest writing prompt,