prologue
AUDREY BLESSING, as she believed, did not live up to her name. She thought of herself as a curse; not so much a blessing. According to the girl, her name should've been something along the lines of, 'Audrey Curse', or, 'Audrey For-A-Girl-So-Respected-You-Disappoint-Me'. Audrey hadn't always thought of herself this way, though. She used to believe that she was a good person. She used her manners, she was respectful, and she was kind. But, if you had asked the girl what she thought of herself, she would also say 'boring'. And boring she was. The girl made no mistakes, which caused her to lead a boring life; a life which one must assume could only create a boring person. This was bizarre, as Audrey was actually, deep down, a truly clumsy girl at heart. Yet, it didn't seem as such to the outside world. That wasn't her choice, though. She lived by the quote, 'living a life with no mistakes is a mistake in itself'. And hence, Audrey believed that she was a mistake.
As said, Audrey made not one mistake. Until, one day, as all do at least once in their lifetime, she did. She lasted 14 years without doing so; according to the people around her. The day that Audrey became a curse, was the day she made her first mistake. A mistake, which changed her entire life for the worse. Perhaps all of her undone mistakes had built up, and led to that one.
September 14th, 1896. The day of the incident. A Monday, of course; the beginning of a bad week, which led to the beginning of a bad life. The only memories Audrey had of that day were haunting.
Well, that and a diary entry.
m᥆ᥒძᥲᥡ, sᥱ⍴𝗍ᥱmᑲᥱr 14𝗍һ 1896
ძᥱᥲr ძіᥲrᥡ,
і sᥙ⍴⍴᥆sᥱ m᥆𝗍һᥱr ᥕᥲs rіgһ𝗍. ᥕrі𝗍іᥒg іᥒ ᥡ᥆ᥙ һᥲs ᑲᥱᥱᥒ 𝗊ᥙі𝗍ᥱ rᥱᥣᥲ᥊іᥒg. rᥱᥴᥱᥒ𝗍ᥣᥡ, і'᥎ᥱ ᑲᥱᥱᥒ 𝖿ᥱᥱᥣіᥒg ᥙᥒᥱ᥊⍴ᥣᥲіᥒᥲᑲᥣᥡ ᥲᥒgrᥡ. ᑲᥱіᥒg ᥕһ᥆ і ᥲm, і һᥲ᥎ᥱᥒ'𝗍 𝗍ᥲkᥱᥒ mᥡ ᥲᥒgᥱr ᥆ᥒ ᥲᥒᥡ᥆ᥒᥱ ᥆r ᥲᥒᥡ𝗍һіᥒg ᥆𝗍һᥱr 𝗍һᥲᥒ 𝗍һᥱ ⍴іᥣᥣ᥆ᥕs іᥒ mᥡ ᑲᥱძr᥆᥆m. ᥲᥣ𝗍һ᥆ᥙgһ, і ძіძ іᥒ𝖿᥆rm m᥆𝗍һᥱr ᥲᑲ᥆ᥙ𝗍 mᥡ ᥱm᥆𝗍і᥆ᥒs. sһᥱ 𝗍᥆ᥣძ mᥱ 𝗍һᥲ𝗍 s᥆mᥱ𝗍һіᥒg 𝗍һᥲ𝗍 ᥲᥣᥕᥲᥡs ᥴᥲᥣms һᥱr, іs ᥕrі𝗍іᥒg іᥒ ᥲ ძіᥲrᥡ. ᥲᥒძ һ᥆ᥒᥱs𝗍ᥣᥡ, і ᥒᥱ᥎ᥱr 𝗍һ᥆ᥙgһ𝗍 і'ძ ᑲᥱ sᥲᥡіᥒg 𝗍һіs ᑲᥙ𝗍... sһᥱ ᥕᥲs rіgһ𝗍. ᥕrі𝗍іᥒg іᥒ ᥡ᥆ᥙ іs ȷᥙs𝗍 ᥲᑲ᥆ᥙ𝗍 𝗍һᥱ ᥆ᥒᥣᥡ 𝗍һіᥒg 𝗍һᥲ𝗍 mᥲᥒᥲgᥱs 𝗍᥆ rᥱs𝗍rᥲіᥒ mᥱ 𝖿r᥆m rᥱᥲᥴ𝗍іᥒg ᑲᥲძᥣᥡ 𝗍᥆ mᥡ ᥱm᥆𝗍і᥆ᥒs.
і'm sᥱrі᥆ᥙsᥣᥡ ᥒ᥆𝗍 sᥙrᥱ ᥕһᥡ і 𝖿ᥱᥱᥣ 𝗍һіs ᥕᥲᥡ... mᥲᥡᑲᥱ і𝗍's ᑲᥱᥴᥲᥙsᥱ і ᥲm ᑲᥱᥴ᥆mіᥒg ᥲ ᥕ᥆mᥲᥒ. 𝗍һᥲ𝗍's ᥕһᥲ𝗍 mᥡ m᥆𝗍һᥱr sᥲіძ ᥕһᥱᥒ і ᥕᥲs ᥴrᥡіᥒg ᥆᥎ᥱr 𝗍һᥱ ᑲᥣ᥆᥆ძ ᥕһіᥴһ s𝗍ᥲіᥒᥱძ mᥡ ᑲᥱძ sһᥱᥱ𝗍s ᥲ 𝖿ᥱᥕ ᥕᥱᥱks ᥲg᥆ ᥲᥒᥡᥕᥲᥡs.
᥆𝗍һᥱr 𝗍һᥲᥒ 𝗍һᥱ ᥆ძძ 𝖿ᥱᥱᥣіᥒg ᥆𝖿 ᥲᥒgᥱr, 𝗍᥆ძᥲᥡ һᥲs rᥱmᥲіᥒᥱძ rᥱᥣᥲ𝗍і᥎ᥱᥣᥡ ᥆rძіᥒᥲrᥡ 𝗍һr᥆ᥙgһ᥆ᥙ𝗍. і ᑲ᥆ᥙgһ𝗍 ᥲ ᥒᥱᥕ ძrᥱss 𝗍᥆ძᥲᥡ; 𝗍һ᥆ᥙgһ і ⍴rᥱ𝖿ᥱr 𝗍᥆ ᥕᥱᥲr 𝗍r᥆ᥙsᥱrs- ᥆r, ᥲs ⍴ᥱ᥆⍴ᥣᥱ һᥱrᥱ sᥲᥡ, '⍴ᥲᥒ𝗍s'. іm ᥒ᥆𝗍 sᥙrᥱ і𝖿 і 𝗍᥆ᥣძ ᥡ᥆ᥙ ᑲᥱ𝖿᥆rᥱ, ᑲᥙ𝗍 і ᥕᥲsᥒ𝗍 ᑲ᥆rᥒ һᥱrᥱ іᥒ ᥴһᥲrᥣ᥆𝗍𝗍ᥱ𝗍᥆ᥕᥒ. і ᥕᥲs ᥲᥴ𝗍ᥙᥲᥣᥣᥡ ᑲ᥆rᥒ- ᥲᥒძ m᥆s𝗍ᥣᥡ rᥲіsᥱძ- іᥒ ᑲrі𝗍ᥲіᥒ, ᥣ᥆ᥒძ᥆ᥒ 𝗍᥆ ᑲᥱ ᥱ᥊ᥲᥴ𝗍. 𝗍һ᥆ᥙgһ ᥕᥱ'᥎ᥱ ᥣі᥎ᥱძ іᥒ ᥴһᥲrᥣ᥆𝗍𝗍ᥱ𝗍᥆ᥕᥒ 𝖿᥆r ᥲ 𝖿ᥱᥕ ᥡᥱᥲrs ᥒ᥆ᥕ, ᥒᥱі𝗍һᥱr mᥱ ᥒ᥆r mᥡ ⍴ᥲrᥱᥒ𝗍s һᥲ᥎ᥱ ᥣ᥆s𝗍 ᥆ᥙr ᑲrі𝗍іsһ ᥲᥴᥴᥱᥒ𝗍s.
ᥲᥒᥡᥕᥲᥡs, 𝗍һᥱ ძrᥱss 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗎𝖾. 𝗢𝗁, 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗼𝗻𝗱, 𝗺𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗂𝗌 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝘁．
𝖨'𝗏𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝖡𝗎𝗍... 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗒
And all that was left afterwards, were some poor attempts at writing without the use of ink, which had left dents in the paper from the frustrated scratches of Audrey. Audrey needed her diary– it was the only thing at that moment that could help her contain her emotions. Her emotions, which she struggled to control as it was, worsened, because of her lack of being able to write.
Audrey couldn't help it. She began with throwing pillows around her room, as she always did nonetheless. But then, it got worse. She began tearing pages out of her notebook– unused pages, that is. Next, she stormed down her stairs. Her parents were asleep, and somehow the sound didn't wake them. If it had, all would've worked out well for Audrey. The last thing she did– her mistake– consisted of lightning the papers by chucking them into the fire; which wasn't lit beforehand. After her meltdown, she stormed back upstairs, leaving the fireplace lit.
Audrey wasn't asleep when it happened. Unfortunately, her parents were... and they didn't wake up in time to get out. Audrey assumed that her screams would've awoken them, but they didn't. She would've gone into the room and woken them up, if, by the time she had realized what was happening, there wasn't a fire directly outside their door.
When Audrey left her house, which was burning to the ground more and more with every waking second, she called out for help. It was late at night, and so, nobody woke. That was, until, she rung her house bell– which was louder than her voice, somehow. Her entire estate rushed to her aid, but it was too late for her house, and parents, too.
The next day, after a night full of tears and lost sleep, Audrey had decided that it would be for the best if she ran far, far away. She didn't want to be reminded of how much of a curse she truly was every day; leaving her past home and life behind by running seemed to be the only way of preventing that. And so, run she did.
She ran. And ran. Until, she fell tired, and decided to sleep on a bench to make up for the two nights of sleep she missed out on prior to the current day. After a while, she had decided on traveling by train, to wherever anyone else around her was going to.
After a few days of travel, both on foot and by train, she Audrey ended up in a town called Avonlea. She had heard of the town before; she knew it wasn't the richest town. There were wealthy people there, but not many. Not as much as there were in Charlottetown, at least. This fact seemed appealing to Audrey; perhaps people weren't as snobby in Avonlea as they were back in Charlottetown.
When Audrey arrived in Avonlea, she set herself two rules: to never be seen, and to never find love, whether it be platonic or romantic. The girl couldn't bear to lose anyone else. And so, to follow these rules, she hid. In the open, that is. Well, in the open at first. That was, until, her first rule was broken.
Audrey found shelter under trees in a wood. She stayed there for a short while, eating berries and drinking from a stream. She lasted around two days before one of her rules was broken.
Audrey was seen on the second day, by a boy around her age, who was on his way to school.
A/N
i haven't properly edited this and most of it was written at like 4am so i apologize if some of it is poorly written or makes no sense lol
eek i can't wait to start writing thisss
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LOVELESS - G. BLYTHE
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