The Night Train To California

Freedom

Philadelphia, 1919.

Violence and abuse. Rose Hockley endured the two things during her eight-year marriage to Caledon Hockley. Their wedding day seemed to be a distant memory in her head as she forced herself to stumble through the next few minutes of her life.

Feeling her hands tremble, Rose heard the organist begin the wedding march. Clutching her bouquet, she closed her eyes to say a silent prayer to get her through the day. To get her through the next few minutes. She could feel her veil and tiara digging into her head like nails and couldn't even put one foot in front of the other, knowing that five hundred people were waiting for her.

They had come to witness the marriage take place. At first, she had been flattered by Cal's affections and maybe had initially even thought she had been in love with him, but after his proposal, he turned into a rather nasty, pompous piece of work. During their engagement trip to Europe, he had made many failed attempts to get her into bed. Of course, her excuse was that she wanted to wait until they were married. She had been raised a good Christian girl.

Rose's thoughts came back to the present as she felt her two maids brushing the white dress that she wore. They adjusted any curls which had straightened and sorted out her veil. Her three bridesmaids stood at the front of the largest church in the state. She hadn't been inside since her father's funeral two years previous. They wore burgundy dresses which had been chosen by her mother, who too wore the colour. Rose had initially chosen lavender, not just because she loved the colour but because she knew her mother detested it. Of course, she had no say in such things; her mother had planned every little detail for her, and she had no voice. When one did speak out, she was told to shut up and sit down like some rude little girl, so she knew better than to voice her opinion. She knew she would have to get moving soon. Her heart beat fast within her chest and for one moment she felt like turning and simply running away...

...Why hadn't she? Their daughter, Jennifer had died at birth nine months after the wedding and then Peter the following year. Another three miscarriages were enough to break young Rose and after eight years of turmoil; she was running away. She couldn't survive another moment in their marital home.

Rose's mother, Ruth, had passed away seven months before, after slowly realising just what her son-in-law had put her daughter through during their marriage. Ruth had died suddenly, with mother and daughter never recovering their long-lost bond. The death had affected Rose, more than she could have imagined. At times, during heated moments, she had even wished her own Mother away, out of the equation but now, without her presence and steely sharp eyes, even Rose had missed and ached for the loss which she had suffered.

Now, with eight years of black eyes, broken bones and mental scars, Rose was finally and very suddenly awakened to her misery. She had had enough; she hated the man she married. With glazed eyes, she watched as he lay in the bed which they had shared for all of their married years, after thinking of setting it alight, watching as he writhed in pain just had she had all of these years. He had taken such pleasure in seeing her suffer, especially after the death of their son.

A single tear fell down her face and quickly she wiped it away. Her mother would know just by looking at her face that she had been crying for freedom.

In just a few moments, she would join Cal and be his forever. She could hear the whispers of the people in the church, wondering where she was and knew at that moment that it was now or never. Knowing the right decision, Rose was about to step towards the altar when she realised she couldn't. Almost as if her feet were glued to the floor and she had been held back. Something inside of her snapped, she couldn't do this...she couldn't marry Cal. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, not one of comfort but one of violence. It belonged to Spicer Lovejoy, her fiancé's manservant.