Peggy never felt included. Her sisters were always off at balls, looking stunning and chatting with cute guys.
It wasn't fair.
The number of times she had been mistaken for one of her sisters, or she wasn't recognised at all were limitless. Even the sisters mistook her for someone else.
It wasn't fair.
Today was no different. Peggy had just been to a ball run by one of her friends. She had spent two hours getting ready by herself, her sisters not even offering to help her. She spent the night talking to a dashing young man in which she had organised a night out with.
He was the perfect man to marry. He was gorgeous, rich, smart and funny. The full package. Her father would be proud once he found out.
If Peggy was closer to her sisters, she would have burst into the room and screamed about how perfect he was, and how they were soulmates.
But Peggy wasn't close to her sisters.
Instead, she burst through her own door, slamming it behind her. She threw a heel across the room, then hurled another after it. She pulled at her corset, yanking it undone, stripping down. Her blood was boiling.
How dare her sisters ignore her?
How dare her sisters not care about her?
How dare they?
It wasn't fair.
She ran the bath, making sure to fill it mostly with cold water. After the water was at a good height, she slid in, relaxing at the coldness prickling her skin. She laid there for at least an hour, unwinding, thinking about the night she'd had.
When she got out, her skin was all wrinkly and clammy, but she didn't mind.
She dried herself off, then got into her silk pyjamas. She climbed into her bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin, wishing someone else could tuck her in. She was aware of the emptiness beside her, the coldness surrounding her body. All she'd ever wanted was for someone to notice her instead of her sisters, and tonight that had happened for the first time. She drifted off to sleep, dreaming about her Prince Charming.
She woke up the next morning, the sun casting it's first rays into her room. She sat up and stretched, her shoulders cracking. She went to the task of pushing down on her fingers, cracking her knuckles. Even though her father frowned upon it, as it was unladylike, she did it anyways, because it felt good to pop them.
Peggy stared at her basically empty bookshelf. She wasn't much of a reader, unlike the eldest sister Angelica. She looked at the violin leaned against it. She wasn't much of a musician either, unlike the middle sister Eliza. She stood, grabbing one of the few books on the shelf. It was a notepad. She grabbed a lead pencil. She pulled the curtains open, tying them up.
Peggy was greeted by a lovely view. She began sketching vague shapes and such, then did harder lines on the shapes she was satisfied with. She coloured some in and left some blank. The piece began to grow into a beautiful landscape, and when Peggy contimplated her work, she sighed.
If only someone cared for her art.
She placed the notepad back onto the bookshelf, along with the pencil.
She could already hear her sisters downstairs doing their chores. Angelica was setting the table and Eliza was cooking. Peggy always got stuck cleaning up after her.
It wasn't fair.
The youngest child in the family is supposed to be spoilt rotten, not forced to do the worst jobs. Yet here Peggy was, scrubbing and dusting.
Angelica and Eliza had cleared away the table after breakfast. It had been awkward, the table filled with silence. Peggy wanted to tell her family about the boy she met last night, but she knew that they couldn't care less if they tried.
As she did these chores, it gave her plenty of time to think.
She should confront her sisters about this. Tell them how she felt. Force them to listen.
She marched down the stairs, determination guiding her steps.
It wasn't fair.
That was going to change now.
I'm just gonna leave it there. Sorry if you were expecting more. I thought the general writing was good, but I ran out of words for this so I decided to stop while I was ahead.
Sincerely,
M.D
