A 19 Year old girl-Abigail Jones-is living during the time of the Civil War. To get her through rough times, she writes letters to her "Dearest". But he isn't who you think he is...
Cover by the graphic queen: @xoxaria
Sometimes I shut my eyes and imagine being with you. I imagine your lovely brown eyes gazing at me lovingly, your dark hair sweeping in the wind.
And sometimes, I shut my eyes and wish to be Paul. Or you. Well, a male for that matter!
I know—I am considered lucky by many to have a tutor come to me for my studies—but Johnny, you must understand that boys are much more privileged than girls!
Boys are allowed to attend school in person, and the younger ones can run around and get their trousers dirty in the mud! I am sure you do not run around in the dirt anymore—you are 20 years of age already—but you do understand?
Well, Johnny, you are probably quizzical about why I am thinking such thoughts today.
I'll tell you why.
My brother—Paul—has become so ill-mannered! I'm starting to think it's from attending those secret meetings with the patriots!
Just yesterday, Paul had come back home from The Square, when he flopped onto the couch and ordered, "I'm rather thirsty. Fetch me a glass of water, would you?" I, of course, thought he was speaking to our servant, so I kept right on reading my novel.
"Abigail!" He had screeched. "I said 'Fetch me a glass of water!'" Astonished, I had looked over at Father, waiting for his response, but he just raised his eye-brows and said, "You heard him, didn't you, Abigail?"
Men now adays are so crude and improper, aren't they, Johnny?
Oh! I almsot failed to mention—we will be hosting the annual Winter ball! I cannot seem to contain my excitement, Johnny! Mother said that her and I can go shopping at the new botique in The Square for new gowns!
But enough about me! More about you! How are you, Dearest?
This week had been tiring, Johnny, with all of the ball preperations! How I cannot wait for this anxiety to end!
And if there is one thing I have learned from studied poilitics in secret for the past year, it's that a war is bound to begin.
Yours,
L̶o̶v̶e̶,̶
Yours,
Abby.
P.S: Sorry about that mess up there! I could not decide if we are close enough to love each other. Maybe someday.
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