Post by JANE EYRE on Aug 29, 2011 20:24:32 GMT -5
This is a short story thingie that I'm writing and Jill's helping me with it. It's going to be strange.
It had taken Jane and Edward seven months to plan their wedding. Seven months of table arrangements, dress shopping, invitations and touring venues; seven months and Jane thought she would have everything she wanted and be happy with it all.
But she wasn’t happy. In fact, she was terrified.
When looking for a place to hold the ceremony, Jane had been tickled to find a Catholic church with a fully furbished bridal chamber. It had a window seat overlooking the church’s garden, a wardrobe, and several full length mirrors along with a vanity. It was lovely. When Jane had seen it she knew almost instantly that it was the perfect place. Now, though, sitting inside of it, all dolled up for her big day, alone, it wasn’t quite so perfect.
She sat at the window seat, her gown draped over it carefully so it didn’t wrinkle or tear. Jane never felt more lost in her life. Looking out over the sun dappled gardens, Jane would let out a soft, gasping sob every so often as her heart raced to catch up to the reality of the situation.
She was marrying Edward. That’s what she always wanted, wasn’t it? Intellectually Jane knew that she was doing the right thing by marrying him; he loved her and she loved him.
...Right?
No matter how hard she tried, Jane couldn’t help but keep flashing back to the first time she had been at the altar. The perfect future had been waiting for her but Edward’s deception stole that all away.
It wasn’t like that this time around. Bertha was dead, killed in a fire, and Edward was able to marry Jane properly. What if he did the same to her? What if, after a few years of marriage, Edward simply locked her away like he had Mad Bertha and hide her from his newest, youngest endeavour yet? It was silly worry really, but it wasn’t an unexpected one.
What was unexepected was how the thought completely consumed Jane. She had been hurt enough already and she was barely 20. She couldn’t go through any more pain.
Jane dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief (carefully so she didn’t mess up her makeup) and sniffled. There wasn’t much else she could do really. She would marry Edward and be happy about it.
Two sharp knocks on the door startled Jane, making her jump. Wiping her face once more, she hoped that she didn’t look like she had been crying and told whoever was there to come in. The door cracked open and Philippe Javert stuck his head in. Jane smiled at the large police detective; she had asked him to give her away when she had first gotten engaged.
“It’s almost time to start,” He said as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Jane nodded and stood up from the window seat and smoothed her hands over her dress to ease out any wrinkles that may have formed. Jane tried to put on a convincing fake smile but knew that it didn’t read as sincere. Philippe didn’t say anything, he just held out his arm so he could lead her down the aisle. Jane checked her appearance in the mirror once more before threading her arm through his.
As they stepped out into the corridor, Philippe cleared his throat and murmured “Y’look good kid,” Jane flashed him a small smile and took a deep breath. This was it. They walked to the double doors that had shut behind the bridal procession. They waited. In those moments, Jane made up her mind.
“I can’t do this,” She said simply, stepping away from the door and away from Javert. He let go of her and watched her walk back to the bridal suite with a furrowed brow. After she disappeared inside, he followed.
“Jane-” Javert started but was interrupted by Jane announcing that she had to leave. She just had to get away from it all. She was shoving her clothes from earlier into her purse as well as her shoes that she had worn to the church. “You can’t just leave,” He managed to interject after she paused to look over everything and to breath.
“And why can’t I?”
As Javert struggled to come up with one good reason, Jane finished her hasty packing and was using her phone to search for flights. “You... you’re being an idiot,” he told her flatly, crossing his arms as he watched her. “I hope you know that.” Jane ignored Javert and focused instead on winding up her knee socks so that they wouldn’t snag on anything in her bag. Admittedly, Javert couldn’t find a legitimate reason for her to stay around; he jokingly suggested “fleeing” to New Orleans to which Jane approved of immediately. He hadn’t expected her to actually agree to that.
It wasn’t a good idea. Jane, alone in the Big Easy, not knowing anyone or having a place to stay. It was a recipe for disaster, or worse. He remembered from his time on the force there that women like Jane were the prime target for so many organizations. “I’ve been meaning to go back for a visit for some time...” he told her, having decided that he simply had to go with her to make sure she didn’t get kidnapped or turned into a prozzie. “You get the plane tickets and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Brides.
It had taken Jane and Edward seven months to plan their wedding. Seven months of table arrangements, dress shopping, invitations and touring venues; seven months and Jane thought she would have everything she wanted and be happy with it all.
But she wasn’t happy. In fact, she was terrified.
When looking for a place to hold the ceremony, Jane had been tickled to find a Catholic church with a fully furbished bridal chamber. It had a window seat overlooking the church’s garden, a wardrobe, and several full length mirrors along with a vanity. It was lovely. When Jane had seen it she knew almost instantly that it was the perfect place. Now, though, sitting inside of it, all dolled up for her big day, alone, it wasn’t quite so perfect.
She sat at the window seat, her gown draped over it carefully so it didn’t wrinkle or tear. Jane never felt more lost in her life. Looking out over the sun dappled gardens, Jane would let out a soft, gasping sob every so often as her heart raced to catch up to the reality of the situation.
She was marrying Edward. That’s what she always wanted, wasn’t it? Intellectually Jane knew that she was doing the right thing by marrying him; he loved her and she loved him.
...Right?
No matter how hard she tried, Jane couldn’t help but keep flashing back to the first time she had been at the altar. The perfect future had been waiting for her but Edward’s deception stole that all away.
It wasn’t like that this time around. Bertha was dead, killed in a fire, and Edward was able to marry Jane properly. What if he did the same to her? What if, after a few years of marriage, Edward simply locked her away like he had Mad Bertha and hide her from his newest, youngest endeavour yet? It was silly worry really, but it wasn’t an unexpected one.
What was unexepected was how the thought completely consumed Jane. She had been hurt enough already and she was barely 20. She couldn’t go through any more pain.
Jane dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief (carefully so she didn’t mess up her makeup) and sniffled. There wasn’t much else she could do really. She would marry Edward and be happy about it.
Two sharp knocks on the door startled Jane, making her jump. Wiping her face once more, she hoped that she didn’t look like she had been crying and told whoever was there to come in. The door cracked open and Philippe Javert stuck his head in. Jane smiled at the large police detective; she had asked him to give her away when she had first gotten engaged.
“It’s almost time to start,” He said as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Jane nodded and stood up from the window seat and smoothed her hands over her dress to ease out any wrinkles that may have formed. Jane tried to put on a convincing fake smile but knew that it didn’t read as sincere. Philippe didn’t say anything, he just held out his arm so he could lead her down the aisle. Jane checked her appearance in the mirror once more before threading her arm through his.
As they stepped out into the corridor, Philippe cleared his throat and murmured “Y’look good kid,” Jane flashed him a small smile and took a deep breath. This was it. They walked to the double doors that had shut behind the bridal procession. They waited. In those moments, Jane made up her mind.
“I can’t do this,” She said simply, stepping away from the door and away from Javert. He let go of her and watched her walk back to the bridal suite with a furrowed brow. After she disappeared inside, he followed.
“Jane-” Javert started but was interrupted by Jane announcing that she had to leave. She just had to get away from it all. She was shoving her clothes from earlier into her purse as well as her shoes that she had worn to the church. “You can’t just leave,” He managed to interject after she paused to look over everything and to breath.
“And why can’t I?”
As Javert struggled to come up with one good reason, Jane finished her hasty packing and was using her phone to search for flights. “You... you’re being an idiot,” he told her flatly, crossing his arms as he watched her. “I hope you know that.” Jane ignored Javert and focused instead on winding up her knee socks so that they wouldn’t snag on anything in her bag. Admittedly, Javert couldn’t find a legitimate reason for her to stay around; he jokingly suggested “fleeing” to New Orleans to which Jane approved of immediately. He hadn’t expected her to actually agree to that.
It wasn’t a good idea. Jane, alone in the Big Easy, not knowing anyone or having a place to stay. It was a recipe for disaster, or worse. He remembered from his time on the force there that women like Jane were the prime target for so many organizations. “I’ve been meaning to go back for a visit for some time...” he told her, having decided that he simply had to go with her to make sure she didn’t get kidnapped or turned into a prozzie. “You get the plane tickets and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Brides.
