It is the maid that wakes me on this, my last day in London.
"Ms. Braxton you must wake up, your father wants you downstairs for an early breakfast this morning." The sweet old lady voices as she pulls back the corner of my duvet and bustles to open the curtain.
Light pours into the room and falls on my face. I stare at it and wonder when the next time I will get so see sunlight in my room in the morning, and if it will feel the same in a completely different world.
"Ms. Braxton change out of your bed clothes, your food is getting cold. " the maid reminds.
"Ms. Codwell, you could at least call me Adeline on my last day here. " I request while I stretch my arms over my head.
"Oh no Ms. Braxton youre not a little girl anymore, and a proper woman should be addressed as so. "
My mood soddens a bit more, even though this is the same responce I've gotten for the past 8 years.
Nevertheless I get up and do what is expected of me. My feet make small pattering noises as I head to my wardrobe to choose a day dress. My hand barely touches the knob before Ms. Codwell interrupts me.
"Oh, no ma'am. You're dress has already been chosen for you. Fresh from the talor, made this week"
I sigh, of course, I'll just go along with it, as always.Ms. Codwell exits the room and returns a minute later. On her arm is a wide bedazzled, extravagant dress.
"Why is this neccisary? Aren't I spending my day on a boat?" Almost exasperated, almost.
"Because you're father wishes it of you. First impressions are very important" she says in a teacherly tone. "You're father wants you to look respectable. You're arrival is all the fuss in the colonies."
I breathe out heavily through my nose, the biggest sign of discontent a woman can show, and resign to the dress. Ms. Codwell stands politely on the other side of the shade while I put on the dress, then she comes to the other side to lace the back up for me.
She ties it so tight it is difficult to breathe."Come along now Ms. Braxton, you can't leave your father waiting. " she voices as she bustles me out of my room.
"I'm going! Do you not have other things to attend to? " I say, slightly harsh. She takes my dismissal with a flash of rejection across her face and hurries away. I can tell my tone upset her, however I want to take my time today. A new chapter of life begins once I step on that ship.
I walk left down a carpeted hallway, with red walpaper and gas lights positioned between stoic portraits of important Braxton men. The green swirls and patterns below my feet are lighter than they once were. 17 years worth of childhood ware has faded them.
I reach the left side of the double mahogany staircase that trails down to the marble entryway. I step slowly, trailing my hand along the banister taking in everything for the last time in a long time.
My mother used to play a game with me and my school friends on these steps. We would sit on the top step while she hid a coin in one of her fists behind her back, then each girl would take turns guessing what hand the coin was in. If she got it right she could move down one step and guess again, once they guessed wrond another girl would get the chance to guess. Whoever reached the bottom of the staircase first got a sweet.
I miss playing games with my mother. I miss my childhood. I miss not having to keep up appearances. I miss not having to sit for hours with a book balanced on my head to prefect ny posture. I miss going outside and climbing trees. I miss a lot of things, but mostly I miss not having to carry the weight of the Braxton name.
YOU ARE READING
identity - An American Story
Historical FictionSet in the first half of Americas history, this girls story represents the emergence of American identity with new philosophies and historical allusion shrouded in darkness and love. Adeline Braxtons story's embody the concept of american identity.