Henry Carter

1.1

Last night I dreamt of my home again. I was stood outside by the tall cast iron gates looking over the victorian built stone mansion. The moonlight was casting grotesque shadows making the house seem sinister and alive. The chimneys stood still, all windows were shut. The night breeze rustled the leaves of the mansion's ivy. The house was whispering. I tried to listen but I could not hear. It spoke in tongues to me unknown.

Then as is by some supernatural force, I feel myself being transported. I am in the main room. I see two figures but they cannot see me. I am hiding behind the old mahogany staircase. I recognise the two figures - it is my father and Madison. The light in the room is dim, I see them facing each other, seemingly arguing or in a passionate discussion, I inch a bit closer and try to listen in.

"Ever since Ava died, you have been different! I cannot bear any more of your grief, it has been four years, Graham!"

"She was my wife, Madison! I loved her!"

"And don't you love me?" I saw Madison cock an eyebrow

"Of- of course I love you" I saw my father inch away and flinch, Madison huffed "M-Madison!"

"Why Graham? She was plain and ordinary, not a bit of good blood in her!" Madison turned away from Graham "She was a plain, boring, sick... pleb!" she exclaimed and my father looked as if thunder and lightning had just struck him.

"How... Dare you!" Graham shouted, looking appalled. I caught a glimpse of a tear catching the light in the dimly lit room, taking on the hint of the dark burgundy tapestries, seemed as if blood was pouring from my father's eyes.

"Henry?" "Master Henry?" I heard familiar voices but I couldn't place where from, suddenly everything is fading to white and the surrounding change.

"Master, are you awake?" I pinpoint the voice, it's Magda, my servant. Lovely small plump lady with round rosy cheeks, always ready to greet me with a smile.

I take in my familiar new surroundings, I see the baby blue walls of my bedroom with the bronze candles planted on each wall, illuminating my late arrivals every night, the plush brown curtains, the thick swag protecting my sleeping figure two minutes ago. I smile at Magda and quickly take a glance at my room. Everything seems to be in place- my towering mahogany dresser stands guard at the wall, the swirling patterns never changing but ever mesmerising; my desk still stands bored and long abandoned, the candle and the papers breeding dust and the big bright window.

I look outside and see the crisp white snow covering the fields, the naked trees enveloped in a white frosty blanket, the empty fields. I cannot see a lot, as part of the view is obstructed by the elaborate icy patterns on the window.

I sigh and look at Magda who has somewhat a quizzical look on her face-

"Master, master Henry, you ought to come earlier! Your late night celebrations have not at all reflected well on your appearance. You look ghostly, pale as the snow outside."

"Oh Magda! I feel dead as the trees outside, bare as the frozen branches and my soul hollow as the barrows in the trunks." I look at her expectantly and see the sad gleam in her eyes as she takes in my "ghostly" appearance. Surely, it cannot be that bad, or can it really? Surely, its just a hangover, that's all.

I have spent all of the past few months celebrating, but all to no avail.

The balls, the dinners, the society has bore me.

My soul has somewhat growen old, I see no joy in life, no reason in this mindeless existence

And as I think these words I realise that i shouldn't seek persistence

In fitting in this big facade. It's all a show!

The fancy ladies do not excite me,

Their fake personas, painted faces! Oh, I should go

To somewhere where the people truly listen and actually care.

I truly do not understand what had happened to me, the material things ceased to excite me in the slightest any more. Not to sound too shallow or stuck up, of course, but I have to say that happiness had been drained out of me. The bright lights, quick music, swirling skirts.... nothing, nothing brings me joy. Oh, I have despaired indeed! Why live? Why try? My soul has died and shrivelled up and I don't see why I should fix it. Life seems so monochrome and bland.

I get up and get dressed in the latest fashions. My trousers, shirt and jacket all dead clean and yet I still take no pride in my appearance, I see no point. I am what people might call a dandy, a fashionista but to me I am just an ordinary man with rags draped on.

I make my way to the dining room the sun is pouring into the room lighting the contents up,

small rainbows forming everywhere, making the room look magical and yet I feel still cold,

the food lacks taste or smell and I persist in eating only to remain alive.

Oh, why? I sometimes wonder. We all evaporate in oblivion some time.

AN :First chapter? Ish? Hmh I think I might do this in some sort of sub chapter fashion. Maybe 10? Yeah I think 10 is good, 10 subchapters for chapter 1. Enjoy!