Athenia's Choice (ON HOLD)

Athenia's Choice: Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

As the apothecary drew back, with a threatening snarl dawning on his face, I knew I had to make a choice soon. I could wait here and then get arrested, or, in fact, actually run away. Slamming the door back into the wall, I shut out warnings from the apothecary. My options were few and I chose the foolish choice.

“Who was that calling then?” Charles wondered brusquely as I rushed back into the living quarters, head spinning.

“It was the apothecary; he’s pressing charges against me!” I cried anxiously, gathering the few possessions I had into my shaking hands. The Beaumonts expressions were ones of shock and confusion.

"Why?” Ida said in bewilderment as I wrapped an oversized kerchief about my head. Everything in my body was telling me to hurry up, this rushing urge to move. Then, the room spun around me and time slowed down. How could I tell them? I let out a whimpering moan, face creasing up at the thought of shattering their lives even more.

“I stole the medicine,” I whispered with absolute regret. Ida and Charles’ faces sunk into disappointed expressions as I noticed the anger flashing across them, that betrayal.

“Oh Athenia...” Charles trailed off, a hard edge to his voice.

"I’m running away,” I told them simply, on the verge of crying.

“How could you? You're a coward. You helped my husband to his death, no matter how much I hated his drinking habits, he was my husband, and I married him for love and...” Ida shook her head in despair.

“Forever?” Cordelia suddenly piped up. This reminded me so much of my farewell to Mariettia yesterday that I just shrugged my shoulders sadly. Feeling too ashamed to say anything else, I bolted out of the room.

I scurried down a nearby dingy alleyway, where I hurried changed into my old dress, which was in such a state I looked even worse than a pauper did. I needed to get away fast, to somewhere congested and overcrowded where there was no hope of anyone finding or discovering me. I had decided to go to the place of luxuries, the place of golden opportunities, the place to be: London.

*****

Darkness was enveloping around me as I trudged through dimly lit backstreets. My feet were crawling with blisters. Then I remembered the distinctive pell-mell bandage around my ankle - how mindless had I been not to remember it when my ankle was bringing me the most unbearable agony? I was so angry at myself I wanted to scratch my face out in despair.

I hobbled awkwardly down to a river, in which I disposed of the bandage in. It could be from anywhere now, if anyone bothered to retrieve it. I walked along by the river from then on because it was a handy source of water. The smell was dreadful, insects flew everywhere and sharp branches snagged at my tired face. The solitary hope I had was that it was the River Thames that was leading north to London.

To my annoyance, after a somewhat blissful amble under a radiating sunset, clumps of tangled grass and small bushes were growing along the riverbed, so I had to dodge them, fumbling around in the dark that was closing around me. I felt so hungry and weak.

I staggered to the ground, tearing my dress even more. My fingernails were coated in dirt. My hair was so unkempt in the darkness it could’ve been mistaken for one of the clumps of bushes. I curled up by a patch of drooping flowers, soil itchy to sleep on. I wondered if Mariettia was staring at the same sky as well, thinking of me.

*****

When I woke up, I was overpowered with hunger and stiffness. Everything ached. There was no noise at all except for quiet chirrups of crickets and tweets of birds. If this was the Thames, I expected more people to be journeying up and down, but it was just me.

I just needed to spot the town of Pembury and then I would know I was along the correct track. There was no recognition of anything for me, just a desolate space of greenery with a rash, wild run-away in the middle of it all. I wondered how angry the apothecary would be. Maybe ending up in this reclusive area was better than London?

After travelling for seemingly ages, My positivity was dwindling and I sighed, unable to believe in anything. It was not possible to resort to living here, for there was scarce food except nuts and berries. I would rather be imprisoned for murdering Henry than die of hunger. So I continued along the riverside, my thoughts boring me. It seemed to literally be the road to nowhere...

I stopped about an hour and a half later. All that walking seemed utterly pointless. I sipped the water from the river again, as my throat felt really dry. It was a little damp underfoot so it was no wonder I slipped.

The water’s icy fingers gripped me, as I went in with a splash. The shock of the cold on my aching body was so wonderful and I wanted to delve deeper under and swim away forever. It was fresh and blissful while at the same time a smack in the face, as the dirt peeled slowly off my body. Water niggled into my cuts, stinging, making my body want to cry out, but I was enjoying the pain. Relaxing in the cold, I closed my eyes, spreading out like a starfish, reaching out in every direction, water slipping through my fingers.

However, my skirts were weighing me down and I had to wade out, struggling and rolling in mud back onto the bank. The dress stuck to my skin, so I wriggled out of it, still gasping with the sheer shock of it. I used the sopping wet garment to slosh my naked, bruised body and face before putting my cleaner and more revealing dress on. It felt nice to be freshened up. I wasn’t going to throw the dirty dress away. Even though it was pointless carrying a muddy ripped garment, it felt important to me to cling onto the beads of remembrance I had.

A glimmer of hope came upon me when I noticed a distant figure. My limping turned to a quicker pace. I was soon disappointed as the hunchback man tottering towards me looked no better than I did. He was seemingly a beggar and a tramp. He came up to me, staring with his only eye. My heart rate suddenly increased, alarm bells ringing. A shiver fizzled through me.

“Give me money,” he croaked.

“I have none!” I stammered back, and that wasn’t a lie, as I had given my last pennies to the Beaumonts.

"Now!” he demanded, reaching out and grabbing hold of my throat, forcing me to the floor, writhing and screaming...