My Dear, Abagail

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓞𝓷𝓮

She’s is soft as the white bunny that comes into the garden every morning.
   
She’s as beautiful as the stars in the sky on a frosty winter night.
She smells of an apple pie made on a rainy day.
   
Her golden-brown eyes hold stories of the untold.
   
Her touch that I crave.
   
Her warmth that I can not live without.
Her smile shines a million times brighter than the sun.
She is everything yet something that I can’t have.
All I must do is wait.
Wait until I can run.
Runaway from this cruel world with her in my hand.

I write in my leather jacket journal with a picture of a pink rose on the front. My father gave this journal to me on my seventeenth birthday. “Write whatever is on your mind. Your darkest and deepest thoughts that even the ocean can’t compete with,” Father told me. Indeed, these thoughts are dark and deep that even God wouldn’t be able to reach them. If Father were to find out about this, he would be enraged. I could never imagine upsetting him. I care for him. He is my father. That is why he mustn’t know about this page at all. 

I carefully rip the page out of the journal and fold it neatly.  “Willow!” My mother yells, her footsteps drawing near. 

“Coming!” I frantically look around my dimly lit room and search for a place to hide it. My bedside table seemed like a good place to hide it for now. I rush to my drawer and throw it inside it. It lies beside a blue, heart-shaped crystal necklace that dangles off of a golden chain.

“Willow, we don’t have enough time,” Mother slams open the door with Samantha, our housemaid, right behind her. “We need to go to Mrs. Miller’s to get our last fitting done.” Mother looks around my room. 

“Are you kidding me? Samantha just cleaned your room. Why must you mess it up again?” Mother enters my room and picks up a pencil from the floor. Now that I look around my room, I see my bed is not made and papers are found in corners.

“Clean up her room,” She orders Samantha, “Willow, let’s go now.” I look at my drawer that has opened a smidge and note to find a safer place to hide the page. I proceed to clear my throat and head out the door right behind my mother, leaving Samantha in my room alone. We rush down the stairs that enter the foyer to meet Mrs. Davis and Abagail by the door. Abagail smiles at me and my heart flutters. I give her a small smile and wave.

“Are the carriages ready for us?” Asks Mrs. Davis, Abagail’s mother.

“Yes, Mrs. Davis. Right, this way.” John Johnson, the coachman, led me, my mother, Mrs. Davis, Mary, and Abagail outside to the front. A carriage made of oakwood was tied to two beautiful Friesian horses. When I was little, I was in love with horses. They are beautiful animals that can run free in the wild. Something that I wish I could do. Mr. Johnson opens the door for the four of us to enter. I sat in front of Abagail, who sat to the right of her sister. The carriage starts to move, and her eyes make their way to the window, admiring the view of this beautiful August morning. 

We are getting our dresses for my older brother James’ wedding. James is getting married to Abagail’s older sister, Mary. Their marriage was arranged by both my and Abagail’s fathers. Our fathers have been close friends in college but drifted away when they both started their own families and businesses. Though the Davis’s lived in another town, it was nearby, so the news spread through the town that Abagail’s father was looking for a husband for Mary. My father took the chance to get my brother and Mary to marry as soon as he received the news, which was about seven months ago. That’s when I first met Abagail. At first, when my father told us that the Davis’s were going to come to our house, I was full of dread. Then I met Abagail and my heart just floated. Time stopped. I never felt so much peace just looking at someone so beautiful. I know it’s wrong, but what can you do? Love always gets in the way of things and sometimes you just can’t help it.

The carriage comes to a sudden stop and the door opens for us. One by one, we trickle out of the carriage and make our way to Mrs. Miller’s shop. “Hello, ladies!” Mrs. Miller exclaims. “We will just get our final fitting done and you shall be on your way!” Mrs. Miller was quite the chipper woman. However, she was always professional when it came to her stitching. You would never want to disturb her once she threaded a needle. Our mothers went up first and got their dresses done. Mary did not have to get a final fitting since she had already got hers finished; she just came along to see the finalization of the dresses. Once I finished my fitting, I walked out from behind the curtains wearing a beautiful pale blue dress with black lace on the neckline and sleeves that reached up to my elbows. I looked at Abagail to find her eyes widened but quickly shook her head. “You look beautiful, darling.” Mother smiles as she walks toward me and kisses my cheek. “Stunning,” Mrs. Davis says. “Abagail, it’s your turn, sweety.” Mrs. Davis lightly pushes her towards the changing room. 

After a few minutes that felt like hours, Abagail walks out with her dress on. She wears a lavender dress with ripples on the skirt. I smile at her.  How could she be even more beautiful? I think to myself. “You just look amazing!” Abagail’s mother jumps. We walk outside of the store as Mr. Johnson brings the dresses into the carriage. “May we look around the town a little while longer?” Abagail asks. 

Mother sighs, “Why not? It’s been a long time being stuffed up in that store. Might as well get some fresh air.” Abagail grabs my wrist and takes off. “Abagail, wait!” Mrs. Davis yells, but Abagail ignores her calls. She brings us in between the barbershop and the flower shop into an alley and turns me to face her. “Finally, I’ve got you alone.” She grins. She softly pushes her lips against mine. I smile into the sweet, longing kiss until she gently pulls away. “You looked beautiful in your dress.” She smiles as she looks me in the eyes.

“And you looked stunning in yours,” I smile. 
I remember when I showed her my favourite cherry tree in the middle of the meadow, up the north hill. My father had it planted for me on my seventh birthday. It’s where I go to be alone with my thoughts. We were talking for a while until she caught me off guard and kissed me. I told her that we couldn’t risk getting caught and that it was wrong to kiss each other. But then I fell, and I couldn’t stop falling. I had to be with her, and I wasn’t able to hold it in anymore. We have kept this a secret for five months, and those five months were the best months of my life.

Abagail holds both of my hands in hers. “I wish that the wedding wouldn’t happen. After the wedding, I’ll only see you on Christmases and other seasonal events.” I whisper. 

“Well, don’t think about that. Think about the next three days. We’ll make it eventful.” She smiles.

“What if…” I hesitate. “What is it? Go on,” Abagail pushes. 

“We could run away. Just the two of us. That way we can always be together.” 
Abagail squeezes our hands tightly, “I love that idea,”

“Abagail!” Mrs. Davis calls out, her voice coming closer within seconds. “We should leave,” Abagail frowns and starts to walk away, but before we left the alleyway, I gently grab her wrist and kiss her cheek. We both walked out, kept our hands to ourselves, and met our mothers and Mary at the flower shop. “You can’t just run away like that.” Mrs. Davis says sternly at Abagail.

“Calm down, Mother. They’re just kids. You can’t tell me that you didn’t do stuff like that when you were their age.” Mary says politely with a smile. When her mother ignored her and walked away, Mary jokingly winked at us with a chuckle. For the rest of the day, we walked around the town square, looking at dresses, flowers, and shoes. For the rest of the day, my eyes kept landing on the most beautiful girl in the world.