Loving Jack

It was the night of my mothers and fathers party. It was a new year, 1888, and my parents’ house was a fashionable place to be.

I was standing in front of my mirror whilst the maid was pulling the straps of my corset tighter and tighter. I could feel the air slowly wheezing out of my lungs.

“Must it be so tight?” I asked.

“The smaller a ladies waist, the more attractive she is ma’am. Your mother must have told you of this.” The maid replied, pulling at the straps some more; causing me to gasp.

“The way the fabric pulls at my breath...it is most uncomfortable.” I murmured, I didn’t expect a reply. The maid was just doing her job.

I was soon dressed, the pale lavender hug to my torso then spread out at my waist; pooling behind me. The dress was most beautiful, and I enjoyed the grace it gave me. The sleeves were loose and hung just off my shoulders.  I enjoyed my reflection a moment longer then went to my dressing table and sat down, careful not to crease the delicate folds of fabric.

My hair was a pale blonde, it went down my back in ringlets which had been brushed and brushed by the maid until they shined. I had green eyes which my father used to tell me would go a horrid darker shade if I got angry. That was when I was younger though, I didn’t get angry much now. It was not considered lady like. Of course sometimes it was hard, but I had to try to not disappoint my parents.

I could already hear the buzz of conversation on the ground floor as guests arrived and began their eventing chatter. I like parties. I like the attention I get.  It is most amusing as men fight over and try to woo me. They like my hair, most other ladies have dull browns and chestnuts. Also I was seventeen and without a man, so I needed to start looking.

I stood up, took a deep breath, and then went downstairs.  Little did I know that, after tonight...my life would never be the same.