The Soul Tracer

It all begins

Isn't it fascinating how if you look at something for a long period of time, it is possible to see images of all sorts. The roof of my bed for example, all the intricate gold carvings, meeting up in the centre to make a shape similar to a flower. Some people however, would see a plain cloud, or tree, or a strange shape that somehow looks appealing. All on a light shade of blue.

A knock comes from the door, followed by my lady's Maid, "Sorry to disturb you, my lady. Breakfast has been served."

"Is it that time already! Oh my!"

"Shall I help you get ready, my lady?"

I make my way to the marble dressing table, in the corner of my bedroom. Feeling the delicate curtains on my way. Clara follows, opening the curtains as she goes, the sunlight streams in alighting my bedroom with a golden hue. I look at myself in the gold framed mirror, assessing the many flaws that the night had brought to my appearance. My wavy ginger hair had fallen out of the perfect braid that Clara had put it in last night, the wretched freckles around my nose were more prominent this morning, and little pools of sweat were forming on my nose.

"Sleep well, my lady?" Clara's voice is always so very gentle, it sounds almost hoarse, though she is perfectly healthy.

Clara is extremely beautiful. Her skin is pale, and flawless. Her eyes are an incredible blue, that shines in the sunlight, and are complimented by her beautiful dark eyelashes. You would never know that her hair is wavy, for she pulls it into a thick, dark brown, bun. A white hair piece sits elegantly on the top of her bun.

"I am afraid not, the fire was a little warm. Could you please send someone up to put it out when you go downstairs. "

"Of course, my lady" Her eyes flicker towards the fire. "It appears that someone has already put it out my lady."

"Very well then"

Her gentle hands went to work on the mess that was my hair.

"How is it downstairs Clara? Everything well?"

She hesitated, then answered,"Yes, my lady, just fine. Nothing you should worry about. "

Clara has always been so very kind to me, but I do wish she would tell me more. I am the eldest child, after all. Once she is done with my hair she helps me into my day dress, then makes my bed. I make my way along the large hallway to the grand oak staircase. I trace my fingers along the leaf carvings as I skip down and jump off the last step. Mama would not approve, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her. One of the maids shoot a smile my way and I let out a little giggle as I put my finger up to my mouth. I am only thirteen, I little fun doesn't hurt anyone. I enter the breakfast room to find mama siting at the table with little Thomas next to her, he is only three and has the same thick brown hair as the rest of my family. The large windows light the room with the same golden hue as my bedroom, and offer an extraordinary view of our magnificent gardens. The rolling hills with rows of trees, which bring much fun to my siblings and me in autumn. Running through the multi-coloured leaves, throwing them at each other and seeing who can build the highest pile.

"Morning Mama, morning Tommy!"

Tommy let out a little high pitched giggle then goes back to dissecting his toast.

"Oh Ada I do wish you would stop calling your brother that wretched name."

A little good morning back would suffice.

"But.. Oh never mind. Sorry Mama, I'll try very hard not to."

Sometimes it is not worth fighting Mama. She can be quite strict when it comes to manners. Personally I think Tommy suits better then Thomas. I take a seat at the beautiful mahogany dinning table, tracing my fingers through the carving that look remarkably like the view from the window. I walk my fingers to a little chair under a large willow tree and carve in one more dash. There's ninety eight now.

A plate of eggs and toast is placed in front of me. I pick at the toast, avoiding the egg. The yellow yolk already spilling on to my plate. A feeling of nausea sweeps through me and I push the food away.

"Please excuse me Mama, but I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit under the weather"

Mama places her cold, soft hands on my forehead and nods.

"Your excused. I'll call for doctor Brandson."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Mama. It'll pass"

I could feel pools of sweat forming on my forehead as I walked towards the staircase. The nausea was becoming constant. As I reached the staircase a grabbed hold of the handrail tightly, trying to keep myself steady. The ground was starting to look extremely appealing. The whole room was starting to turn in circles, I tried focusing on the huge portrait of grandpapa hanging over the large lit fireplace at the end of the saloon.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Clara's voice came from behind me.

"I'm afraid not...."