Silence in the 1800s
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MatureOngoing<5 mins
Last published Sun, Aug 5, 2018
I was born to Fiona and Joseph Martin. I was one of seven children, five being girls, me and my brother, Sebastian, being the two boys. My brother lived to the age of nineteen, and was engaged to Stephanie O'Neill, the daughter of a lord in Great Britain. She was to bring the family wealth. Sebastian however grew ill with the common influenza, and passed before his marriage would take place. After his death, I kind of just stopped talking. My parents took their frustrations out on me and my sisters, and my sisters pretended he was never alive to begin with. I wouldn't talk until I was 18. And even then, only few words would be spoken. My tongue would twist and I would be yelled at because my speech was different. My family would hear those few words, and my mother would cry while my father would ignore me until a younger child would embarrass him, then he'd beat the words from my mouth.
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The land they crossed was beautiful, the land was not flat but sloped into valleys and hills peppered with trees that gave shade and small streams, as they moved Sam spoke to him about the dry season, details of the land and where water could be found, and anything she thought would interest the man. Running out of things to say she turned to him and asked, " any questions?" " not regarding the land, would you mind answering a few personal ones?" Bryan asked Sam shook her head, "yes, I mind, I don't particularly like it, no offense." "None taken, just curious to know why you want to be mistaken for a boy." Sam reigned in her horse, and waited until he did the same. She pulled one leg out of the stirrup and placed it over the horn where she rested her elbow on her knee and placed her face on her hand, "think about this," she said nudging her horse so that she almost touched the man, "would we be riding here,like this, alone, if I looked like Cecile? All grace and delicacy?" Sam's eyebrows rose and an impish smile spread on her face as she watched Bryan's face change as her words sunk, and he pulled back. I wrote this story in the nineties, for my mother who was an avid romance reader and Barbara Cartland follower, she had been diagnosed with lung cancer and there wasn't much to do. Since we lived far apart I wrote this and other stories to entertain her and show my love. She was a brave woman who ventured from her motherland, Germany and married a man from Peru which language she did not even speak. I based most of my stories in her circumstances of not fitting in, she went to a country where she knew no one, and there she stayed for the love of one man.
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