Save me

1. Beginning

"I love you and that's the beginning and end of everything."

-SF

                                                                      ❦

"She has perhaps...a  year."

Annabelle felt that tightness that had been plaguing her body all her life start to constrict within her chest, she wanted to cry, or maybe even laugh. Because of course, this was how she would die. Not in a room filled with people whom she loved, not surrounded by her future kids and husband. No, she had to die before she was even old enough to experience a quarter of what life had to offer. Annabelle Smith was going to die feeling the same way she had felt her entire life. Alone. 

The estranged scream of her mother filled the room as if its sound was swallowing all the air up in the room the louder each cry became. 

She watched that woman who had not spared her a glance in the past two years grip the lacquered armchair with such force that nail marks traced behind her fingers. Her father with that very familiar nothingness behind two black eyes- frowned, not because he felt sympathy but because as always he was ashamed. Ashamed of his mad wife and insolent daughter, Annabelle watched as he sighed pulling his coat off and around her mother. 

After a while, with not even a glance from either her parents to her, she watched as her mother pulled herself away from her husband, eyes red and coated in tears that Annabelle still couldn't understand the purpose of being shed.

"And there's nothing we can do?"

"Miss Smith  I wish there was something to treat this but.. the truth is any doctor will tell you the same thing. It is considered chronic .....I'd say give her somewhere near the sea, open air and continue to take tonic for the pain"

The sound of the Dr Richardsons voice which Annabelle had always so strongly despised now faded further and further away. Because slowly, Annabelle left the room, and she was no longer in the room which smelt of chemicals strong enough to singe a horses coat, but in the warm buttery fields, which she often stared upon from her little window in the bricked holiday home she was condemned too by her mother every so often, not because there was an intention of allowing Annabelle any pleasure, but because she was despised to be looked upon by her parents when the social season came around. 

And any question of Annabelle's presence being missed was dismissed with the assurance she was taking extra classes for Whilshires ladies academy. 

So no. Annabelle didn't know how to feel as both her parents poorly attempted to seem sad at her early departure from life. And whilst that seemed pessimistic. She felt it seeped with the reality of the situation. Because for her two parents, this simply meant brief shock followed by mass amounts of sympathy from work colleagues and potential investors. She could even hear the headlines 

'Wealthy Noble descendants 'Smiths' daughter dies at only age of 16'  

But that warm feeling in Annabelle's mind which had so clearly been replacing the shivers of terror that laced the air of that horrible room now returned as violent shrieks from her mother's throat, began growing louder and louder until Annabelle simply could not take it anymore. Not that she would have to. 

Her eyes fluttered open she simply looked up toward her ceiling, the morning sunshine filling the room with that wonderful golden colour, her cousin Samuel standing over her with a toothy grin, the thought of that dream or rather a memory melted a little further away from the forefront of her mind.

"Annabelle" The sound of an animalistic groan left her lips in response as Samuel continued leaning over her mischievously his oaky scent engulfing her senses  "Sam, Must you scream so early in the morning..?" 

"Mother told me to awaken you...is that not what I have done?"

Annabelle sighed begrudgingly,  pushing her duck feather stuffed pillow into his face as he chuckled in that oh-so-familiar Samuel way. 

His large hands grabbed the white fluffy pillow throwing it right back into Annabelle's face.

"Come on Annabelle Punctuation!" 

She watched as he stomped out of her room- feet marching towards the kitchen which had the wafting scents of oats and honey floating around the room.

She let out a final groan glancing around the walls of her room, admiring the soft white colours that held arrays of emballed lavender flowers, daisies and roses.

She attempted to push her upper body up, yet her arms shook just enough that the slight ache in her joints was felt. 'I can push through it- men are dying in war surely I can do this" She pushed harder, ignoring the sting and the brittle density of her body. 

'Sucess" she whispered, the small victory fueling her to take a seat on her vanity.

Annabelle couldn't help feeling as she always did when gazing at her appearance, perhaps a familiar conflict. Never had she been considered pretty enough, slim enough, pale enough or remarkable enough for her parents to even want to introduce her to society. From the beginning of her life, she recalled her mother scrubbing creams and soaps into her face in an attempt to remove Annabelle's Freckles and whiten her complexion. Eventually, it gained her nickname 'porcelain doll' from the wet nurses and maids.

She took in a deep breath that slowly turned into a shallow exhale. She moved away from her reflection reaching for her mauve lace hemmed dress which lay over the dresser. She began removing her night-wear, pulling its silk fabric over her head and lacing up each string and ribbon. 

Finally, she opened the last drawer of her dresser, staring down at it's contents, inside one single white ribbon. She placed it in her left hand staring at it with a smile.

 "You look beautiful." 

Annabelle turned to her Aunt Mary standing at the doorway of the room, delicate hands grasping a basket that Annabelle presumed was for her first day at the Avonlea school. The thought of starting a new school slightly made her body shake as she unfondly recalled her experiences of isolation within the inner city of London schools. But as she looked into Mary's eyes she knew she had to be brave and live these last days for the sake of those around her. So Annabelle stepped forward slipping on her socks and shoes, and carefully took the basket from her auntie, whispering a small 'Thankyou' and offering a smile.