An eternal ride ✔️

Maybelle awoke sitting in an empty carriage of a moving train. She must have fallen asleep; she thought to herself; how becoming. Looking down at the watch on her wrist, Maybelle realised it was not ticking anymore. It was frozen on 10:00. She guessed she must be nearly at her destination. It felt like she had been travelling for an eternity. Where was she going again? Home. Yes, she was on her way home. Moving so that she was more comfortable, Maybelle elegantly folded her hands in her lap, stopping as she did so to look at her ring finger. There had been a ring on that; she was sure of it. A slight headache formed across her forehead, as she recalled what happened. It had been an arranged marriage that she had wanted no part in, and she remembered finally telling her mother so. An argument had followed, and she had stormed out, saying she was going home. For the first time Maybelle was grateful about her mother’s adamant demands about following the standards of the high social standing families, for it meant there was no one waiting for her back home. It was winter time, so they had all travelled away to their summer houses.  

With a sigh, she turned and faced the window, the scenery a blur as the train steamed past. Did trains usually go this fast? She could not remember. For winter, it was still intensely sunny out there. On a whim, she opened the window and leant out slightly. Sunshine was warm on herface, and the air was the cleanest she had ever smelt. For the first time in a while, she felt herself smile, and it was freeing. How easy it would be to make this her life. One eternal train ride. No commitments, just pure freedom. In this moment she felt young again, young and free. 

As she leant back into the carriage, she could see her 10-year-old self. Father's laugh would boom down the halls and mother’s smile was constantly there. The grand parties and the beautiful people were the most wondrous things she had ever seen, and her days were filled with the freedom of whatever she pleased.  She remembered playing in the woods nearby her home, the fresh scent of pine and the dirt between her toes. It all felt like an eternity ago, a long forgotten dream. Just like that, the memories vanished. Now all that was left were the echoes of laughter and the memory of a smile.  Now her days were simply exhausting, full of demanded expectations. No choice and no say, no freedom over her life.  

Her body feeling stiff, she stretched and tried to focus. But it seemed there was a heaviness in her head that she just could not shake. Feeling exhausted, she leant her head against the frame of the window and decided she could rest her eyes for a moment or two. A new series of images flashed before her eyes. She was 15 years old, and she was wiser now. The glamour and extravagance of the parties had worn off on her. She saw through the once seemingly beautiful people with their expensive clothes and jewellery; saw that they were hiding behind the shine of finery to disguise the fact that they did not shine themselves. That was the year she first met him. The boy her mother would soon deem worthy of her daughter. The boy who had become the man that had forced her to become a woman. She guessed her mother's 'worthiness' extended only to elements of the superficial. 

She opened her eyes as an icy cold chill filled the carriage, reaching through tears in the silk of her ball gown she had not noticed before. The sky outside was stormy, so she shut the window wanting to keep the cold away as long as possible. 

Placing her elbow on the table, she rested her chin on her hand and gazed at the seat in front of her. A blue leather seat, worn and cracked, its stuffing spilling out. Second class. Why was she in second class? She could not remember a time she had ever ridden in anything other than first. No matter, the finery of first class mattered little to her. Actually, grandeur of any sort mattered little to her anymore. A fact that constantly bothered her mother. It certainly had last night. It was at her engagement party, she and her mother had argued. She had stood up to her mother and told her that she did not care for such frivolities and that she hated her soon to be husband with a burning passion. Immediately, she had stormed out into the night, and after that… Well, she could not remember. 

Maybelle’s headache from earlier intensified, bringing her back to the present. Blinking, she struggled to stay awake, her eyelids suddenly heavy. She was close to arriving, she could tell. Her body ached, and her gloveless fingers were numb. The train whistle blew in the distance, but the sound struggled to make it through her sleep-fogged mind. It would be easy, she thought to herself, to just stay. Maybelle was so tired now, of life, why did she need to go back? Uneasiness crept up inside her, as she began to panic. Where was she going? What was going to happen when she got there? As the panic threatened to overwhelm her, she heard the familiar rumble of her father's laugh, and her fear vanished. Just like that, she knew everything was going to be okay. So Maybelle stayed. And she rode the train until the last of her light had faded away.