August 31st, 1864 - Prologue

The mid morning South Carolina sun glared as the funeral procession neared its close. Following the polished mahogany coffin was a young man with a serious face and dirty blonde hair. He didn’t seem to be upset, just mildly irritated; frustrated at most. The humidity was suffocating, as if they were all insects trapped under a glass bowl. He continuously fiddled with the stiff collar of his shirt in a pointless attempt in cooling off in the smouldering summer heat. He appeared to have much better things to do than to mourn the death of the person slowly decaying in the small wooden box. A smattering of people was behind him. Dressed in black, they resembled a flock of crows surrounding a carcass ready to devour it.

The coffin was lowered in a clearing between miles of dense forest. Lofty, gloomy trees loomed over all sides of the clearing, giving an ominous appearance. None of the mourners seemed to be mourning. The ladies with lace draped over their heads occasionally dabbed at their faces with scraps of material, yet none actually seemed to be crying. It was all a display. Beyond the clearing, carefully disguised by the impenetrable foliage was a man who looked like he belonged at the funeral. Dressed in ratty brown trousers and a patched up overcoat he stood out obviously in comparison to the others so primly dressed. Etched on his face was a picture of agony and anguish. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his shoulders shook with silent, suppressed sobs. As the coffin began to be slowly lowered to its final resting place he fell to his knees and curled up on himself, as if he were falling apart and it was the only way to keep the pieces together. Clutching at his copper hair he remained like that until the funeral procession began to drone a hymn as they walked away from the burial site.

The man shakily stood, and walked towards the fresh grave. The sun was streaming through the gaps in the trees, casting strange spaces of brightness and shade across the meadow. He was no longer crying, but had his features forced into a stony, impassive expression. Upon reaching the grave he pulled out from his jacket a single white rose which he preceded to place on the newly upturned soil. The resolve in his expression wavered for a moment, and grief once again dominated his features as he kissed his hand then placed it on the soil. Within a minute, the harsh expression was back and the man got up and walked firmly out of the clearing, without looking back. 

August 31st, 1853 - Ariana

Ariana Bellamy sat on the front porch of the cheerful colonial mansion. Her serious grey eyes stared out into distance as she absent-mindedly twisted long strands of wavy, chocolate hair between her short, pale fingers. She liked being out there. From the front of the house you could just see endless rows of trees, not the vast stretches of field visible from the back which were occupied all day by the slaves. She hated seeing them. The sweet smell of blossom wafted towards her in the slight breeze which only just prevented the hot air from becoming sticky. She liked it there because used to sit on the porch with her mother in a rocking chair, and would have her hair plaited whilst her mother relayed some magical fairy tale. She always sat captivated; glowing from the attention she received. Ariana remembered her mother vividly, especially the way she tied her hair neatly up in a tight bun and the songs she used to sing to her at night. Ariana didn't know, however, that she only sung them to disguise the harrowing sounds of misery coming from the slaves who lived on the other side of the estate.

In fact Ariana remembered even the most unfortunate details about her mother. Like how when Ariana turned nine her mother took ill. She recalled visiting her in the master bedroom and seeing her in agony, covered in a sheen of sweat. The way she would sometimes be in so much pain she would hallucinate and cry out about monsters and demons that only her lost eyes could see. The way her father had come downstairs and sat her on his lap, his face contorted in distress. He had held her and said that her mother was with the angels. She remembered crying and asking why. Why had they taken her mother away? What had she done wrong? Then she thought of what her father had said.

With stark sincerity he told her “It was one of the slaves who did this to her. They aren’t people Ari. You need to understand that. They have different diseases to us. You should treat them no better than the dogs that run about the town. They are dangerous, and not for little girls like yourself to be worrying about.” He had paused, as if debating whether to continue. Then he had said- “Guess what Ari” Her brother Gabe had appeared behind harshly pulling her back to the present.

 He stood confidently, dressed like a townsman although he was only fifteen. The slick brown trousers and bristly tweed jacket were accompanied by an annoying smirk on his face. His honey coloured hair was scraped harshly away from his eyes, different from his usual scruffy style, and his tanned skin was scrubbed clean. Their father had been training him up to be the heir to the estate, slaves and all. And evidently Gabe loved it. He adored being a leader and having power over others. Ari had learnt this the hard way having many times been a pawn in his juvenile games. Not to mention the fact that he received exiguous attention from their father whilst Ari was left lonely for the whole day. His confident manner wavered and his smirk became a boyish grin as he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and repeated irritatingly “Ari, guess what!”

Ariana did not reply. She was in no mood for her older brother’s amusements. They always were intended to poke fun at her or get her in some form of trouble. Nevertheless, he was excited, and eventually blurted out without Ariana having to say anything, “I went out to the fields today!”

She gasped, her eyes widening and was rewarded with an even larger beam from Gabe. She had never been out into the fields, and had always tried to stay away from the slaves, especially after they gave that dreadful disease to her mother. To go out into the fields, even if he had been accompanied by her father was unthinkable!       “What on earth were you doing?” she exclaimed in horror. “How could you go out there after what they did to mommy?” “Ari shut up don’t be stupid!” he replied snidely. “You shouldn’t believe everything Dad says you know. Mom never even went out to the fields, remember? All she did was stay inside with you! Dad has been out on the fields practically every day since you were born and have you ever seen him with so much as a cold? No!”

Ariana stared at him in shock. He was lying. He was wrong! Yet what would cause him to say such things? She began to panic. Had she been wrong all along? Gabe appeared to be awaiting a response. He stood cockily, feet slightly apart, still with that annoying grin on his face. After a while it became clear that Ari was not going to reply. She still sat dumbfounded, hoping her brother would retract his statement and tell her of course the slaves had killed her mother. What else could have done?

But he didn’t. He appeared shocked that Ari had been so blind as to not be able to figure it out. His features morphed into a puzzled expression and he began to snigger.  “Oh my gawd Ari!” he exclaimed. “You actually did believe him! I didn’t realise you were so stupid!” Ari was embarrassed, a flush spread across her face and she turned her head in a poor attempt to hide the tears that were beginning to glisten in her eyes.

Gabe, realising the damage he had inflicted sat next to her on the uncomfortable porch steps and put an arm around her. She tried to shrug it away, not liking contact with her brother, but decided she liked the comfort and set her head on the itchy jacket. "I'm sorry." he muttered after several minutes had passed. "I forget that you're only nine sometimes. I never think about what I say. But it’s true you know Ari." "What is?" she said quietly. "That mom didn't get the disease from the slaves," he replied. It was the way he said it that made Ari hurt even more. Earlier it was easy to pretend that he was teasing, but his mask was gone the pain of loss within his voice was palpable. "She had cancer." he continued. His lip quivered slightly but he bit it hard to appear strong.

A million thoughts began to run through Ari's head. What was cancer and why had her mother contracted it? Was her mother a sinner? She had always been taught by her devout father that if you lived a good life without sin you would live a long and happy life! What must her mother have done to get such an awful punishment? she thought.

As if her could sense her panic Gabe blurted out "It wasn't her fault though Ari!" "But Dad said-" "I know what Dad said" he interrupted firmly. "But Dad was wrong. He lies to protect you, although I don't think it does much good considering you're so gullible!" He prodded her on the nose lightly, hoping to see a smile creep up on her tragic face. He didn't.

"Look Ari, I shouldn't have said anything" he said exasperated. "Don't tell Dad I said anything, okay?" "Okay" she replied meekly. Thoughts and memories were still swirling about her mind, like a snow globe shaken beyond the point of resettling. One thought sprang to her mind though, and just as her brother was getting up to leave she said in a puzzled voice, "Why does Daddy treat the slaves so badly then if they didn't kill Mom?"

An unreadable expression flashed across Gabe's face. It was immediately disguised by a harsh and stony mask, so similar to the one her father had when he spoke about the slaves to her. His voice scared her when he next said, "Even if the slaves didn't give Mom her disease doesn't mean that they're not vermin." Then he repeated the exact thing her father had told her six months ago when her mother passed away. "You should treat them no better than the dogs that run about the town. They are dangerous, and not for little girls like yourself to be worrying about." And with that the rough expression vanished and he walked away, whistling softly with a spring in his step.

Ari was shaken up. Everything she thought she knew had some crashing down in front of her eyes. But one thought still nagged that the back of her mind. Why were the slaves dangerous? If they hadn't killed her mother they couldn't be that bad. They still looked like people, even though their skin was the colour of chocolate where as hers was the colour of cream. Her mind was in overdrive, thinking about things that she didn't understand. Without knowing what she was doing she rose from her perch on the porch and made her way to the front of the house, the place she hated going. From there she looked out across the vast, green fields scattered with numerous slaves cutting the long crops with large blades.

She stepped cautiously away from the safety that the house had always provided and walked anxiously towards the fields. The slaves weren’t dangerous, she told herself continuously, repeating it like a monotonous song. She didn’t know why she was walking towards the fields. It was almost like she had something to prove to herself. She felt guilty for being terrified of the slaves for her whole life and wanted to show that she could conquer her fear. Her breathing quickened as she neared the crops. She unlatched the small, iron gate which guarded the entrance to the fields. A thin path had been worn amidst the long strands of grass. She followed it. If she could just walk through the field and back then her fear would be conquered. She would no longer be afraid to sit at the front of the house, to watch them working in the fields.

She reached the area where the slaves were. Her heart was thumping hard against her rib cage. The long, pale dress she was wearing was clinging to her skin. Slowly, she stepped into the field. Staring at the ground she walked forward, taking step after step until she stopped shaking. But when she looked up she was alarmed. It had been a bad idea not watching where she was going. In her terror she had strayed off the narrow path and was enveloped in grass that went almost up to her waist. And the slaves were staring at her. They had paused from their work and were observing her curiously. She began to panic. She forgot what she had been forcing herself to believe earlier, that the slaves were not dangerous. At that moment all she could register is her thought that they had killed her mother.

Her hands began to shake. They were still looking at her. She noticed they were all different ages, a woman with a wizened face and wrinkles, a tall, lanky boy who didn’t look much older than Gabe, and a short, strapping man with what looked like whip marks across his bare back, looking raw, puss oozing from the edges of the deep, painful cuts. He stepped towards her, looking concerned.

“Are you lost, little girl?” he said kindly in a deep voice. She was frozen to the spot, her tiny hands clenched into fists, knuckles white and on the verge of splitting. Again, he took a wary step towards her, and that was when she saw the knife in his hand. It was huge, the silver blade glinting menacingly in the blazing sun. Ari screamed and ran. She sprinted towards the house, not caring where the path was, trying to part the impenetrable jungle of grass and crops as she ran.

Her foot caught in the grass and she fell. She was panicking, her heart racing, tears forming in her eyes. Her dress was torn, blood trickling from a shallow cut in her knee. And her ankle was radiating pain. She imagined that it was similar to the horror stories she had heard from the factories in the cities, where people had caught limbs in machinery and had died. The agony was excruciating. Looking behind her she saw the slaves walking towards her, concern etched on their faces. But she could only think of the fact that they had killed her mother, they had given her the awful disease, they were monsters, murderers, maniacs, evil!

She screamed louder, trying to ignore the blinding pain in her ankle. The slaves closed in on her, the older woman crouching down slowly and trying to free her ankle which was trapped in the grass. Ariana was sobbing at this point, tears streaking her pale face. As the woman finally freed her foot the world swam around the edges. Then everything went black.

***

            A whirlwind of voices penetrated the unfathomable darkness. The soothing voice of her father, a voice of a man she did not recognise, and her brother’s voice, which cracked when he spoke almost like he was holding back tears. It remained like that for a while, the constant blackness interspersed with moments of bright colours and speech.

Eventually Ari felt as though someone was grabbing her mind, lifting it out of the hole it had been trapped in. She opened her eyes. She was lay on her father’s bed; her back propped up slightly on a pile of firm cushions. Her leg, she observed, was also elevated and a cold towel was wrapped around her swollen ankle. She looked up and saw three faces anxiously observing her every move. Although there were only three of them it was like she was trapped in a crowd of people, swarming around and suffocating her. Her breathing quickened and she felt like she was being chased by the slaves again, like they were going to kill her again with their disgusting disease. A tiny, nagging voice at the back of her mind told her that she was wrong. The slaves weren’t the ones who killed her mother.

The voice quietened when her father began to speak. “Ariana”, he said tentatively, relief clear in his voice. “Are you okay?”  Ari nodded timidly and was rewarded with a hug from her father. She stiffened. He never gave her any physical contact; he was always so upright and controlled. He obviously sensed it too and he pulled away quickly, clearing his throat and regaining his usual composure. Then, as if he were remembering what had happened, his eyes hardened and his lips tightened into thin white lines. “What on earth were you doing out there anyway, girl?” he spat harshly. “You know what I told you about the slaves. What in God’s name could have convinced you to go into the fields?”

Ari looked to Gabe. His fists were clenched and there was a look in his eyes that Ari hadn’t seen since their mother passed away. No, she thought, I won’t sell him out. She tried to think up an excuse but it was useless. Her mind was blank. Tears of desperation sprang up in her eyes and she began to cry again. Immediately she was smothered by her family, and the strange man standing there. She cried into her hands until the man knelt down next to her and said in a soothing voice, “Ariana, look at me.”     Ari unwillingly lifted her tearstained face and looked the man in the eye.

He had a kind face, but his grey eyes were icy and cold. The man continued to speak. “My name is Doctor Gilbert” he said. “Your father called me here immediately after the slaves carried you to him. He sounded very worried. You have minor injuries; your ankle is fortunately not broken. However it is severely sprained and will be rather painful for the next few days. You also have several small grazes on your legs and I fear you might also have a concussion because you appear to have hit your head when you fainted, so I will need you to stay awake for the next few hours. Can you do that for me?”

 Ari nodded again. She seemed incapable of speaking. The doctor handed her a small handkerchief which she proceeded to dab her teary eyes with. Her father then took the doctors place and poorly attempted to imitate his comforting tone. “Ari, I need you to tell me what happened out there. Did one of the slaves hurt you?” Ari nodded again, blocking out the voice in the back of her mind that was telling her that she was wrong. It was her own stupidity that got her injured, not the slaves. She heard a sharp intake of breath from her father, and saw his knuckles whiten as he clenched his hands tight. “Which one?” he asked, barely controlling the anger in his voice. Ari tried to remember the slaves, the three which she had encountered on the field. There was the old woman with the kind and concerned face, the young and lanky boy around her brother’s age and then... “It was the short, strong one” she said, a quiver in her voice. “The one who carried the knife.”

Her father stood up launched himself up off the bed in a rage and proceeded to storm out of the door and down the stairs. Ari was scared; she had never seen him act like this before. “Gabe” she gulped, staring at her brother. “Gabe, where is he going?” Gabe didn’t reply. He stared grimly at the door then strode over to the windows and harshly pulled the curtains shut. “Gabe!” said Ari again, her voice rising up an octave in hysteria. “What is he doing?!”

Again he didn’t answer. He began to pace the room. Doctor Gilbert stood uncomfortably next to the door, pretending to look through some papers. “Daddy!” Ari began to shriek, terrified of what he could be doing. “Daddy come back please!”

When nothing happened Ari tried to push herself up out of the cushions and off the bed. Gabe rushed over and restrained her with strong hands, whilst she feebly struggled. Noise rose from outside the window... It sounded like a mob or a riot... Her father’s angry voice boomed above the rest yet she couldn’t make out what he was saying... She gave up on fighting Gabe’s restraint and tried to listen... There were shouts, screams, cries of protest… The voices continued to rise, the buzz sounding like a swarm of fervent wasps, like nothing Ari had ever heard before… The clamour outside reached a deafening crescendo…And that was when the shot came.

Stunned and eerie silence fell outside. The sound of the gun had cut off all noise except for a single wail of despair emanating from another of the slaves. A female it sounded like. Another bang and the cry was cut off.

Ari never saw the big slave or the kind old woman again. 

October 21st 1853 - Ariana

            The trees outside shook violently in the wind, the multicoloured leaves floating to the ground like snow. Ariana sat uncomfortable on the bay window seat, staring miserably out of the thin glass. She had barely left the house (apart from to attend Church on Sundays) since the incident in the summer, even though her ankle had long since healed. Her father had decided that she was too young and the outside was too dangerous, and she couldn’t help but agree. The faces of the two slaves that died haunted her dreams. She was ashamed to still be afraid of them. She knew they hadn’t hurt herself or her mother yet the unreasonable part of her still cringed at the mention of any of the slaves. Occasionally she thought of the young boy who was with two that had died on the field. What had happened to him? Had he died yet too?

Despite her fear she was so bored being trapped indoors. All her toys had been played with so much in those past two months that even her favourite doll failed to amuse her anymore. And Gabe wasn’t any fun either, she thought to herself. He attended school all day Monday to Friday, then responsibly dressed and helped his father in business about Charleston at the weekend. Ariana had considered begging to go with them, yet the hour long walk from their small village into the big town was almost as unappealing as sitting around the house all day.

Ariana longed to go to school like her older brother; she was nine years old and it was about time she began. Yet her father insisted that “proper young ladies” received special tutoring, and that all wealthy families in South Carolina paid to have their daughters educated in “more feminine” subjects rather than to send them to public school. That was what Ariana was waiting for whilst staring out at the chilly autumn day. Her tutor was set to arrive any moment. She prayed for a nice one. Gabe had told her such awful stories of schools, where teachers could use whips as punishments and where beatings were so common amongst the poor boys that they often returned home black and blue. She shuddered at the thought.

The enormous black gate at the bottom of the garden creaked open and a slim woman in a large brown coat came into sight. Clutching her hand nervously was a boy. He appeared to be around Ariana’s age, yet it was difficult to make out from such a distance. What was clear, however, was his hair. An unusual colour of red, it matched some of the leaves scattered that path, and scruffily fell into his eyes. Evidently he was in need of a trim.

The pair reached the porch and Ari heard a rapping at the door. She flew from her seat to open the door, plastering a big fake smile on her face. Her father had insisted she make a good impression, so she had been dressed in a starched white shirt which was too big for her, tucked into an itchy floor length navy skirt. She had felt silly but her father had insisted she looked grown up. Reaching up to the ornate, golden handle, she pulled the door open, letting in with it a gust of cold air. The woman, she noticed, was young, nothing like the strict teachers she had been expecting. Her face was thin and pale, and jet black hair was tied loosely at the back of her neck. A couple of strands which had been teased free by the wind hung by her cheeks, framing her pretty face. She smiled widely, showing white yet crooked teeth and swept Ari in for a hug.

Ari stiffened at the strangeness of the act, yet the lady didn’t seem to notice and remained there for what appeared to be hours until she pulled back, hands still placed on Ari’s shoulders. She knelt down in front of her, creasing her black dress as she did so.

“Hello” she said in a cloying voice, sweet as syrup. “My name is Amanda Calhoun. I am so excited to be here, you’re father had told me all about you! I am to be your tutor for the next couple of years!”Her voice was annoying, Ari decided. Amanda looked at her expectantly, awaiting a response. “I’m Ari-I mean Ariana”, she replied, attempting to mimic the sickly sweet voice of her tutor. Amanda didn’t see but the red-headed boy behind her smirked, having noticed what she had done. “Oh how rude of me!” chimed Amanda, seeing Ari looking at the boy curiously. “This is my son, Edmund. Your father agreed that I could bring him with me to tutor you. You’re being taught to an advanced level and I thought Edmund would benefit from that. He is eleven, you see, so that would fit his ability.”

Two years older than me, Ari mused. She hadn’t been too wrong in her estimates. Edmund stepped forward, his hand outstretched. She took it. “Nice to meet you Ariana” he said. His accent didn’t sound like he was from the south: it was a little harsher than the accents she was used too. “Can you please call me Eddie? Mother always insists on calling me Edmund. I believe she thinks it makes us sound posh but I think it’s a bit pretentious myself.”

Amanda looked outraged at that statement but Ari giggled, and Eddie grinned back, lighting up his bright green eyes. Clearly he was glad he had amused someone. He was a couple of inches taller than her, his nose and cheeks covered with a smattering of freckles. He appeared very well spoken, Ariana had never heard her brother use the word “pretentious” and he was a lot older than Eddie.

Nevertheless, it was clear that neither he, nor his mother were well off. His denim trousers were covered in numerous, discoloured patches, as if they had been torn and mended multiple times.  His pallor was pale and frame on the skinny side, almost as if he didn’t have quite enough to eat.

Yet Amanda was thinner. She had since removed the large brown coat Ari had seen her walking up the path in, and it was startling to look at. A modest black and grey dress went up to her neck, and covered her arms, yet the bones sticking out from under her skin were so visible it looked painful. Although her legs were covered by the long skirt of the dress, Ariana imagined they would look like matchsticks that could snap at any second. She wondered why on earth someone in paid work like Amanda could not afford enough to eat.

October 21st 1853 – Eddie

            Eddie sat across the table from his mother and Ariana, looking partly amused and partly disgusted. He hated being there, but was curious as to how his mother was able to act so differently around Ari. She was nice at home, yes, yet in this house she was a completely different person, cooing over Ari annoyingly, constantly repeating what a “wonderful little girl” she was.  Eddie turned back to his maths and stared at it, confused. He didn’t understand any of it but his mother was so devoted to her new pupil he didn’t get a second glance.

            Bored to tears, he gave up on the arduous sums and proceeded to stare around the house. He had never experienced such luxury. Sat at a polished oak table and on a plush cushioned chair he felt like a king. His home was comparatively squalid, a small, drafty shack on the outskirts of Summerville.

            They were poor, and Eddie knew it. His mother had never tried to hide that fact from him; she always told him outright why he couldn’t have better clothes or nicer food. It was because of his father. A raging drunk, he spent all the money he earned from work on alcohol. The point came when he didn’t even bother turning up to work, and if he did he was always intoxicated. His manager had been lenient yet when he had shouted abuse towards a client at his bank they had been forced to let him go. Eddie was seven at the time.

            What hurt him the most is that he could remember a time when his father had been normal, loving even. His father would return in his smartly pressed shirt and suit which had since turned into rags… he would smell of paper and coffee and would have ink blotted messily on his fingers but the only smell that lingered around him afterwards was the stench of strong liquor. When they had moved out of their comfortable house into the little shack they now called home his father hadn’t even had the decency to stay sober for the humiliating occasion. Even at the age of seven Eddie had known the rumours that went around town, the disgrace that his father had brought on his former higher class family.    

            When Eddie began school less than a month later, he hadn’t been able to fit in. Shunned by the higher class families and rejected by the poorer people, he found himself sat reading every lunchtime. And he read everything. Fantasy, historical, even Shakespearean plays, Eddie found someone who he could relate to in each of them, and soon these characters became his friends. But the other children couldn’t let him be content on his own. He was consistently jibed, ridiculed and had his meagre belongings stolen regularly. One day, when he had returned home with a bruise blossoming on his jaw his mother insisted she educate him from home instead. His father, as usual, did nothing.

            This became problematic. His mother had worked about town, doing any jobs people would employ her for. The came from a “disgraced” family, and everyone was prejudice towards them. But tutoring Eddie meant she couldn’t even work. Dinner portions began to get smaller, and clothing became thinner. His mother always gave Eddie the most to eat, slipping him the occasional extra slice of meat or bread so he wouldn’t go hungry. Still, his father did nothing but wander about town, drunk out of his mind. Things began to look desperate until his mother had heard about a tutoring position. It was the perfect opportunity. She could continue to educate Eddie and get paid simply for helping someone else along too.

            He knew it was good for his mother to be working, yet he couldn’t help be angry. It was as if she had abandoned the self he saw. She was acting the way she did around the people she used to be friends with, the respected people, the socialites. It was almost as if she had forgotten everything that had happened over the past four years, as if she didn’t remember the way they had been shunned by those rich people. They had been rejected, forced to watch the lives of the people they used to associate with from the sidelines. Nobody had helped them when they were cold, hungry, living with so little whilst they had so much.

            "Let’s take a look at your math then Eddie." said his mother, putting her arm casually on the back of her chair. Her face fell when she saw the incomplete sums and the scrawling doodles that occupied the otherwise blank page. Disappointment crossed her features but she simply pursed her lips, threw him a dirty look, then said “Right, I think it’s time for lunch don’t you? You have an hour to go play and have a break, I need you back here at 1pm exactly, okay?”

            Ari nodded obediently, folded her papers neatly, then darted upstairs before Eddie could even move from his seat. Eddie was let down. He had hoped that he would finally have somebody to play with, yet obviously that was not the case. He didn’t know why he had expected more from Ari. She was rich, just as bad as all the other people who had rejected his family from their society. Yet he had seen something in her eyes, a twinkle, a spark of life that he had never seen in the eyes of the other posh people about town. He reached into the small leather bag he had brought with him and was about to lose himself in a well loved copy of “Frankenstein” when his mother slid into the seat beside him. The look on her face told him that he was in trouble.

            “Eddie...” she began. “Mom I’m sorry” he interrupted, hoping his apology would soften the blow of her punishment. She looked puzzled. “Sorry for what?” “You don’t want me to apologise for not doing my math? And for throwing you dirty looks whilst you were working with Ari?” “You were throwing me dirty looks?!” she laughed incredulously. “Well don’t worry I didn’t notice them! And as for the math I didn’t really expect anything else. I know you hate it.” Eddie let out his breath, relieved. “Well sorry anyway” he repeated again, just in case she pretending to be calm when on the inside she was close to exploding. “I was just going to ask if you could go and play with Ari” she continued.

            Eddie pulled a face. His mom immediately understood why. “You know, she’s not like the others.” She looked at her sons face. Seeing the disbelief in his expression she continued “She’s alone like you! Does she have other people around here to play with? You saw how long we had to walk to get here; Ari is isolated just like you were at school. She is a lovely girl. If you get to know her you could be friends!”

             The enthusiasm in her voice was so strong it made Eddie feel bad for wanting to ignore her. All his mother had ever wanted was for him to be happy, and she had given up so much in the process of doing so.  He sighed, and groaned, but eventually agreed, and plodded up the thickly carpeted stairs. When he reached the top of the stairs he looked around in awe. A mahogany cabinet was nestled in the corner at the top of the stairs, filled with what appeared to be whiskey. And there were so many rooms! Each had an identical door, endorsed with an ornate doorknob made from crystal.

            One of the doors was slightly ajar. This, he presumed, was Ari’s room. He stepped into the room quietly, and saw Ari sat on the windowsill, staring out at the fields. To his horror, they were filled with people. Black people. Slaves. He shuddered. His mother had told him about slave owners, how badly they treated the slaves. She had told him how wrong it was, that they were people too. When he had asked her why she hadn’t done anything, she had said it was dangerous. The people who owned the slaves saw them as status symbols, the more slaves they had the richer they were. Judging by the amount of people working in the fields, Eddie came to the conclusion that Ari was rich beyond belief. He didn’t want to be there anymore, he wanted to leave, but he was too scared. His mother had warned him that slave owners were bad people. People aren’t all that different, he remembered she had said one evening to him. If they are willing to treat another human being like that, don’t think for a second that they wouldn’t do the same to you if they got the chance!

            He wondered if his mother knew that she had taken a job at the house of a slave owner. Surely she didn’t know, he thought. Why would she tell him about the immorality of it all then take him to the heart of a slave business?! Eddie was surprised that Ari hadn’t noticed his presence yet; her gaze was still transfixed on the fields. Upon observing her closer he noticed that he shoulders were shaking, and she was making soft, whimpering noises. This was bad, he thought. Silent crying was the worst kind. He had seen his mother do it before, when she managed to get her drunken husband, half unconscious, into bed. She would sit on the rocking chair by the door and sob silently into her handkerchief, her fist shoved close to her mouth in a futile attempt to stop Eddie from hearing her. But he always heard.

            He stepped backwards awkwardly, knowing he should leave the room but half of him didn’t want to. Ari jumped at the noise and turned around. Her teary eyes opened wide in shock, and she yelled “GET OUT!”

            Eddie didn’t move. He didn’t know how to act around her; he hadn’t been around anyone his age for years. She stormed towards him, still shouting at him to leave, but he remained, feet planted firmly on the ground. Little hands slamming hard into his chest she pushed him harshly. It hurt but Eddie didn’t care. He stared to laugh. Ari looked at him in astonishment. “What are you laughing at?” she said angrily, although the temper she had been in when she had seen him in her room had simmered down slightly. Eddie laughed harder, and gasped “You!”

            She pushed him again, this time so hard that he toppled over onto the floor. But he still laughed. This seemed to aggravate her even more. He knew he should stop, that it wasn’t gentlemanly to annoy her this much. But he just found it hilarious. Eventually, in a bout of rage Ari slapped her hands on his shoulders and stood on his hands. “OUCH!” Eddie exclaimed. “Get off me, you’re crazy!” “Not until you tell me why you’re laughing” Ari said stubbornly.  “It’s obvious isn’t it?” “No!” “It’s you Ari! You act all prim and proper in front of my mom, I mean you practically curtsied when we came into the house this morning! And really, it’s all an act! You’re rabid!”

            To his complete surprise Ari grinned. She stopped standing on his hands and stood straight, attempting to neaten her now creased dress. Her face, he observed, was still blotchy, the evidence of her crying still tattooed on her cheeks. “My apologies.” Ari said, suddenly acting like the perfect young lady he had met downstairs. “I shouldn’t have done that.” “Don’t” said Eddie firmly. “Don’t what?” “Don’t go back to acting like you’re something you’re not! I didn’t like you when I met you. You acted like all those other awful rich people in the town. But seeing you act like that, well it made me realise that you’re normal!”

            Ari smiled widely. “Okay” she replied, “But in front of your mom I have to act like that! Or she will tell my father that I’m misbehaving and will get in so much trouble!” “Deal.” Eddie held out his hand, and Ari took it cautiously and shook it. There was an awkward pause. Eddie realised that his mom had been right about Ari. She evidently hadn’t been around many children; she didn’t know how to act around him. Unfortunately he was in the same position.

            “So...” he said after the silence had lasted almost a minute. “Why were you crying?” The same angry expression he had seen when Ari turned around flashed across her features, but was quickly replaced by a stony mask and stubbornly set jaw. “What makes you think I was crying?” “Ari come on, do you think I’m stupid?” Eddie replied. “Well if the math you were doing before is anything to go by, yes!” Eddie laughed aloud. Was it that obvious that he hadn’t been doing any work? Ari let a small smile break through too, thinking Eddie had dropped the issue. But he hadn’t. He desperately wanted to find out what was going on; why she was crying whilst looking at the slaves.

            “Ari” he said again, serious all of a sudden. “Don’t ask me” she said in a small voice. “Please.” “Ari, what’s wrong?” Her lip quivered, and she saw tears spring up in her eyes. She bit her lip to try and stop the crying, but failed miserably, and eventually sat on the floor crying into the folds of her skirt, whilst Eddie uncomfortably watched.

October 21st 1853 - Ariana

            She didn't want to tell him. What right did he have to come in here demanding to know all about her? But she had to, she thought as she hid her face in her lap. He would think she was even crazier than he already did if she just sat crying without explaining everything. She felt him kneel down beside her and pat lightly at her arm, in a feeble attempt to stop her crying. Ari looked up eventually and saw that he really was concerned. His bright green eyes looked like saucers in his face, and his mouth was twisted into a confused frown. "Ari come on, please tell me" he pleaded. "What am I gonna do!? I don't bite!" "You will think I'm an awful person" she said, her voice hitching slightly. "Well you've already tarnished your stellar reputation by attacking me, so how much worse can it be?" He said it jokily, but Ari remained serious. She could see his expression changing, disbelief clouding his clear eyes.

            "I killed someone." Ari said boldly. "Two people actually." It hurt to say those words finally. She had been holding it in for what seemed like centuries although it had only been a couple of months. Eddie, much to her surprise, began to laugh awkwardly. "Okay Ari, now tell me what you really did" he replied.

            She looked at the floor again, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "Ari, you don't mean you really killed someone do you?!" He sounded disgusted now. Good, she thought. She was disgusted too. She wanted people to see her for who she truly was. A murderer.  She felt him get up to distance himself from her, and listened to his footsteps. When she thought he had left the room, the turned got up to wash away her tears. Much to her surprise, he hadn’t left. He was stood in the doorway, trying to make himself look big although he was only a couple of inches taller than her.

            His face was scared, Ari could see that. Yet it was also doubtful. It must be pretty difficult to think of a nine year old as a murderer she thought to herself. She moved closer, trying to leave her room to get to the bathroom, but he stayed firm, blocking her way. “Move. Now” said Ari in annoyance. She was in no mood to be polite. “I’m not leaving until you explain what you meant” he replied. “No” “Then I’m not moving then!”

            God he is annoying, Ari thought. He was almost worse than Gabe! Normally this sort of thing made her temper flare up, and she would go at him fists at the ready. But she had already done that once today; he would be expecting it. Eddie was still stood in the doorway, and despite the anxious look in his eyes, he was smirking. Fine, Ari thought, two can play at that game.

            “Well I’m not saying anything so you’re just going to be stuck there forever!” Ari then stormed over to her usual seat on the window and flung herself dramatically into the chair, all hoping it would add to Eddie’s annoyance. But it didn’t. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and still Eddie refused to move from the doorway. Ari glared out of the window, furious that the impertinent boy was beating her at her own game. She glanced over her shoulder and caught his emerald eyes, glimmering with mirth. From the moment she saw that look she knew she had lost. Eddie evidently had the patience of a saint; there was no chance he was going to move.

            “Okay” said Ari miserably. “I will tell you what happened. Eddie’s face lit up in a grin, yet quickly dropped. He seemed to have forgotten for a moment why he was being so stubborn in the first place. Walking across the room, he sat down next to her, cautiously, Ari noticed. He simply leant against the windowsill, gripping only by his fingers, toes pointed and legs tense, like a bird about to take flight.

            Ari took a deep breath and began to tell the story that she had kept bottled up inside for months. How she found out how her mother had really died, how she had been so scared of the slaves in the field that she didn’t know what was happening, and how she knowingly lied to her father. She looked at her hands the entire time, counting the miniscule creases in her fingers, unable to bring herself to look at Eddie’s face because she knew she would find a look of loathing, contempt, disgust.

            Finally, after ten minutes of her telling the story and trying not to get too worked up, she looked at Eddie. Astonishingly he wasn’t looking at her the way she had expected. His lips were white, pressed into a tight, thin line, as though he had to physically prevent himself from flying insults at her. But his eyes were no longer wary.

            “You have to know it wasn’t your fault”. He said after a pause. A quietly contained anger was within his voice, and Ari couldn’t quite understand why. “Yes it was!” she said, but then quickly pinched her lips shut again. She couldn’t allow herself to get upset in front of Eddie again. She had known him for only a few hours and had already cried once. However she couldn’t help be a little bit impressed. He had more resolve than her older brother, who would have simply made fun of her for crying. He had actually tried to do something to help.

            “Ari, please, look at me” Eddie pleaded. “It isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have done anything to stop your dad. You were scared, you didn’t know he was going to…” he trailed off, obviously not wanting to say the word kill. “I can’t stop thinking about it though” she admitted ashamedly. “I feel like it will just be haunting me forever, whenever I close my eyes I just see their faces. They only wanted to help me! And what did I do? I told my dad and he killed them!” she began to cry again, but this time it was uncontrollable.

            Her shoulders shook, her breath became stuck in her throat and a horrendous choking noise came out. Never in her life had she cried like that in front of someone before. This was what she saved for the nights, where she used to crawl under her covers, when the faces of the dead slaves visited her. When she used to stuff the blanket in her mouth to disguise the awful gasps that came with her pain. When exhaustion finally won over sleep was her saviour, drying up the tear marks before anyone could notice. But she couldn’t sleep now, not with Eddie here.

            His hand came down on her shoulder. The turned and saw him sitting on the window ledge with her, no longer looking like he wanted to fly away. His figure was blurred from the tears spilling over her eyes, and her failed attempt at preventing the choking noise had led to irrepressible hiccups. “Ari, get up” he said in a firm voice. “You’re coming into the fields with me.”

October 21st 1853 – Eddie

            Eddie was in shock. He thought he had been treated badly by his family. Yet whilst his dad drank until he was blind, he never experienced the same physiological turmoil that Ari was obviously going through. She was stood behind him as he led her downstairs, and was dabbing at her face which was still streaked with marks from her tears. Occasionally she hiccupped, squeaking like a mouse, like the old ones that used to live in his house. Petite, with light brown hair and delicate features, Ari reminded him of those shy little creatures.

             Occasionally, when he had enough food he would leave out chunks of bread for the mice to come and nibble on, and watch in joy as they squeaked in delight. But his father had found out, and his little friends were obliterated.  He felt obliged to protect her, the way he couldn’t protect the mice. Evidently she had been through more than he knew. Guilt settled in his stomach; he had thought such awful things about her earlier, presumed that she was just as bad as everyone else. But she was just as much of a victim as he was.

            Amanda was sat downstairs. It was going to be difficult to sneak past her. She was under strict orders not to let Ari outside; her dictator of a father had obviously instructed that. Eddie did exaggerated tiptoes, and pressed his finger to his lips. Ari giggled. He was immediately relived. She had finally stopped crying and was even cracking a smile. Amanda whipped her head round and they flattened against the wall.

            “Shush!” whispered Eddie. “My mom can’t see us otherwise we won’t be able to get to the fields!” “Well maybe that would be better” said Ari feebly. “I really don’t want to go back out there. I told you what happened last time; it can’t happen again.” “I won’t let it happen” said Eddie determinedly. Ari laughed musically. “And how will you do that?” “With my bare hands of course!” He flexed his arm dramatically, pretending to be strong and Ari let out a peel of laughter.

            At once, Eddie clasped his hands over her mouth. Her eyes widened in astonishment. He motioned to Amanda sat at the table. She nodded in acknowledgement. Creeping down the stairs, Eddie imagined himself as one of the characters he had read about in his books, sneaking off to accomplish a dramatic mission or exhilarant adventure of some sort. He darted into the hallway and into the kitchen, Ari following right on his heels.

            “Ari” he hissed “Is there a door out the back?” She nodded quickly and motioned him to the left. He crept around the counter in the kitchen and found a giant French door. The glass glimmered, as the sun breaking through the clouds shone through, illuminating her face. Eddie tugged at the door knob enthusiastically. It wouldn’t turn. He tugged at it again, harder this time, but Ari slapped his hand away furiously. “Stop pulling you will break it, idiot” she seethed.

            Eddie grinned. It was a huge relief to see her acting normal again. He had been lost about what to do when she broke down earlier, finding himself patting her on the shoulder as though she were a dog. “We need the key” he said “No need to state the obvious!” she responded snarkily. “It’s in the bowl by the porch at the front.” “Well how are we meant to get that?! My mom is there, she will know something is up!” “Oh well” said Ari, feigning disappointment. “Looks like we can’t go to the fields after all!”

            Eddie couldn’t have that. He needed to show her that she needn’t be scared of the slaves, and that she had to forgive herself. “No” he said firmly. “I will distract my mom, you go and grab the keys. You go upstairs. I will drop something in hear, my mom will come in to find out what’s going on, and then you run and get the keys, okay?”

            Ari nodded enthusiastically. Although she wasn’t happy about the idea of going to the fields, the thought of a mission lit up her eyes in excitement and a smile gleamed on her face. Turning on her heels she dashed upstairs, stepping lightly so as not to attract his mothers attention. Eddie looked around the kitchen. He had failed to notice its grandeur when he previously entered. A giant oak counter occupied the centre of the kitchen, topped with cooking utensils he had never seen before in his life. The huge, cast iron oven was on the other side, dominating the wall, and next to it was an enormous metal bowl. Perfect.

            The bowl made a satisfying yet almighty crash as it hit the ground, the metal making a deafening ringing noise as it hit the cold tiled floor. Within seconds his mother had ran into the kitchen with a look of alarm on her face. “Eddie!” she shrieked. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

            Through the doorway, he saw Ari race from the bottom stair into the hallway and to the porch, quick as a mouse. She was rummaging through a bowl of keys by the door. When she found the one she needed she held it up and stuck out her tongue so Eddie could see, then sped back upstairs out of sight. Impressive, Eddie thought. Amanda was still glaring at him. “Sorry, I just wanted a drink and then knocked over the bowl! I didn’t mean to mommy.” He knew that would work. His mom adored it when he called her mommy. She abandoned her previous grievances and returned to her papers at the table.

            A few minutes passed, then Ari slid back into the room, holding up a key gleefully. Eddie mimed cheering then grabbed the key of her, jamming it into the lock. There was a small click, and then the knob twisted and the door creaked open. They stepped outside into the frigid air and closed the door quietly behind them. It was unusually cold for South Carolina. The summers were usually scorching, followed by a milder fall and reasonable winter weather. But although the sun was shining the air was still icy. He turned, hearing Ari shiver and realised that she was only wearing a thin white shirt, with no jacket. Without a second thought he shrugged off his own overcoat and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled gratefully, but didn’t say anything. He could see that she was nervous, regarding the path from the back porch with wariness.

            “Ari, is this the first time you’ve been out of the house without your dad? You know, since it happened?” Again, Ari nodded. She seemed too afraid to speak. Seeing her like that, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if he was really doing the right thing. “Ari, we can go back inside if you want. I just wanted to show you that you aren’t to blame. You had no control over what your dad did to the slaves. We were just going to walk around the fields, but if you’re not comfortable doing that-“ “-No I want to” Ari interjected. “I need to do something; I can’t cope with seeing their faces in my head every night”

            Eddie understood. He stepped unwaveringly off the porch, and marched down the path towards the edge of the field. Ari followed. When they reached the gate between the path and the crops Ari took a sharp intake of breath. Eddie looked at her and was scared to see her; sickly white, her hands balled up into fists and shaking. She really must be terrified, he thought. Again he felt a surge of sympathy for her. She was not a cowardly girl; not afraid to attack an older boy or throw insults at him. 

            He held out his hand and Ari cautiously took it, allowing him to lead her into the field. The tall grass waved up to their knees, still damp with teardrops from the mornings dew. They walked further into the field, leaving the safety that the house offered them. Ari began to relax the more they walked, realising that the slaves weren’t going to hurt her. Some looked up from their work, but immediately busied themselves again when they saw the two of them. “Want to turn back now?” Eddie asked, aware of the fact that he had to be back to lessons with his mother by one o’clock. “Yes please” she responded politely.

            They turned around towards the house and Ari let out a shriek of horror. There was a slave blocking their path.

October 21st 1853 – Ariana

                It was him. The boy who had been there on that awful day. But he looked different. When she had seen him last he had seemed friendly, his stature had been more relaxed. This time, he was tensed up, as if he was trying to contain the anger and hatred coursing through his lean body. He was holding a pitch fork in his hand. Evidently he had been using it to do his work, but the way his hands were clenched around it made it look like a weapon.

            Ari could see Eddie next to her. She could see him mouthing words but couldn’t hear anything. A thunderous buzzing echoed in her ears. Ari could not tear her eyes from the slave stood blocking the way out. Strangely, she was not afraid. More like humiliated. From the way the boy was looking at her, he must have known it was her fault the other two slaves were killed. Without thinking what she was doing, Ari stepped forward as if in a somnambulistic trance.

            Slowly, as if she were trying to not spook him she stepped towards him. Eddie was stood behind her, shouting not to move, to stay with him, that he would keep her safe. She ignored him. Upon reaching the boy, she stood with only a foot between them, and raised her chin. He was almost a two feet taller than her, but she wanted to look him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry”. Ari choked out these words, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t have spoken louder if she had tried; it was as if someone was grasping her vocal chords, smothering them, making it impossible for her to say anything more.

            “Those people that you...” The boy trailed off as if unable to continue. He paused. Cleared his throat. “Those people that you had killed. They were my family. My mother. And my brother.” Ari felt sick to her stomach. She had lost her mother, and knew the pain he was feeling. And it was her fault. The world began to swim at the edges again, the face in front of her rippling like a puddle disturbed by a stone. Eddie’s hand clasped around her elbow to steady her. He had clearly decided that the slave was no longer a danger.

            “You have no right to say that to her”. Eddie was angry, she could sense it in his voice. He wasn’t shouting, yet it was quietly controlled. “She didn’t know her father was going to do that. From what I have heard he is a cruel man, could a nine year old have stopped him? No! She even tried to, though! She struggled to try and stop him from doing it, even though she is clearly terrified of him but was restrained! I know you’ve been through hell, trust me I know. But you cannot blame Ari for this.”

            The boy was smirking now, but outrage glittered in his deep chocolate eyes. “You know I’ve been through hell?” He sounded provocative. “Do you know what it’s like to be a slave, white boy? To be beaten on a regular basis? To have all your possessions taken from you, to be owned! To not have your own free choices, to be told your worthless every single stinkin’ day? DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT FEELS?”

            The boy was shouting now, his hands gripping so hard on the pitchfork his knuckles were close to tearing. “It takes everythin’ you are not to believe them. Every single thought you have goes into tryin’ to convince yourself that you have some self worth. Some small, miniscule scrap of dignity which would make all this sufferin’ okay. And that scrap of dignity was my family. My mom did everything for me. She gave me food, made sure I was warm when the harsh winter winds blew, protected me from the endless lashin’ and beatin’.  My brother did that too. And you took them from me.” He pointed venomously at Ari, who cowered backwards into Ari. Tears were springing up in her eyes but she couldn’t let this boy see.

            “I’m so sorry.” Ari whispered again. “They were all I had.” The boys’ voice had quietened his previous outburst a fleeting memory. Silent tears rolled down his dirty cheeks, cutting thin lines through the grime. “I have nobody to love me now” he said through the tears.  “I have nothin’.”

            Ari sobbed loudly, and stepped forward without thinking. Eddie grabbed worriedly at her arm but she ignored him, and placed her small hand over the boys, which was still tightly wound around the pitch fork. He visibly cringed, but didn’t pull away. After a while he cleared his throat and pulled away. “I’m sorry too” he said, although the effort of that sentence was clearly excruciating. “I don’t know why I blamed you. It was your father who pulled the trigger.”

            Ari nodded in understanding, and the boy moved out of the way of the path. Ari hurried away, only turning to see Eddie behind her. The slave was already heading back out to his station in the fields. Eddie had stopped, feet planted firmly on the ground. Cupping his freckled hands around his mouth, he shouted to the boy. “What’s your name anyway?” It was unclear from where they were standing, but the boy appeared to be laughing. “Robin” he shouted back to us.

            Ari moved towards the gate, becoming anxious of the fact that Amanda could so easily discover them in the fields. Yet when she turned back Eddie was still annoyingly stood in the middle of the field. Did he have no concept of time? she thought to herself. “No” Eddie yelled. Ari wished he would be quiet; he could easily attract his mother’s attention. “What is your real name?” The boy appeared to be really laughing now. “As if I’m gonna tell you that, white boy” he drawled.

            Eddie nodded in acknowledgement and proceeded towards Ari. “How did you know that wasn’t his real name?” Ari questioned curiously. “My mom told me that slaves change their names. They have the name they are called by their masters, then the name they keep to themselves, like a secret they can never share.”

            The idea seemed absurd to Ari. Why on earth would someone hide their true name? As if he had read her mind, Eddie replied “It’s a form of self-preservation. The masters take everything from the slaves, but they cannot take their name. I doubt that anyone apart from his family knew his real name.” Ari didn’t understand the logic behind it, but nodded anyway not wanting Eddie to think she was stupid. They closed the heavy gate behind them and headed up the porch steps, shoes clicking on the soft wood.

            The door creaked piercingly, and Ari was relieved to see after glancing at the over-elaborate grandfather clock that it was only quarter to one. Scampering back upstairs, Ari collapsed in a heap on her neatly made bed, not knowing what to think. The ordeal downstairs had shocked her. At first she felt like she was falling into that back whole again, that the world was swallowing her up again. But when Robin had told her that it wasn’t her fault it felt as though all the sadness that had been suffocating her for the past months had been lifted. She raised her face out of the soft quilts and looked at Eddie who was watching her apprehensively. He must think I’m upset, she thought.

            “Thank you for making me go out there” she said softly. “It really helped.” Eddie grinned widely, his green eyes illuminating like a cats.  “Oh thank god, I thought I’d messed you up! You looked like you would faint out there!” Ari giggled. “No, I’m okay. I’m glad you forced me, I understand now.” Suddenly she had a thought. In hushed tones she whispered, “What if we helped him escape?!” “Who?” hissed Eddie, mimicking her voice. “Robin!”

            The same incredulous look she had seen earlier crossed his face again. “Don’t be stupid Ari” he said harshly. That hurt, as if someone had just punched her in the chest. It was the exact same thing that Gabe had said to her after he revealed the truth about their mother. But she swallowed the feeling and said indignantly “It’s not stupid! Think about it. Whether he says so or not I am still partly responsible for his mom and brother dying. Like he said, he has literally nobody left in the world! It’s my Dad’s farm, I could do something and he wouldn’t suspect me!”

            Eddie’s eyes were clouded with disbelief, but it wasn’t at her idiocy. Something told her that he thought they could do it, if they put their minds to it. “It would be very difficult though” he replied. “But if you planned it right…” he trailed off, lost in thought.  Ari suddenly became aware of a gaping flaw in her plan. “Where would he go?” she questioned despairingly. “Everyone around here treats Negros the same way!” “He can go up north!” he said excitedly, becoming engrossed at the idea of relieving an adventure like a character from a story. “My mom is from up there, I was born in New York, she says it’s different there, Negros’ are free.”

            The idea of a free black person was astonishing to Ari. She had only known them in enslavement; the possibility that they could not belong to someone scared her slightly. But she pushed that part of her away. Eddie had shown her that they weren’t wrong; that they weren’t all too different.

December 31st, 1853 – Eddie

                The crisp winter air played havoc with Eddie’s tousled hair, whipping the slightly too long strands in an orange whirlwind around his head. He stood anxiously on the porch of Ari’s gigantic house, waiting for her to come out with everything necessary for the plan. They had been planning it excitedly for weeks, but when the time came for it to be enacted, Eddie felt like somebody was twisting his intestines around. This is someone’s life, he thought worriedly to himself. If Robin gets caught it will be mine and Ari’s fault…

            Ari stepped out of the house grinning, interrupting his train of thought. Evidently she wasn’t as nervous as he was. In her hands she clenched a strangely shaped object wrapped in silver silk. “Did you get it?” asked Eddie quietly, not wanting to attract the attention of his mother inside. Although his mother disagreed with slavery, to her helping one escape would be unthinkable. If they were caught, she would surely be fired from her position. 

            Ari nodded and smiled wickedly, removing the silver silk with a flourish to reveal her father’s gun. Eddie returned her smile nervously, then continued; “Remember the plan?” “Of course I do” replied Ari indignantly. “We’ve been going over it for ages; I’m hardly going to forget it.”

            Nevertheless, Eddie repeated it, mainly to ease the butterflies attempting to burst out of his stomach whilst Ari rolled her eyes in frustration. “So you run to the other side of the field, past the slaves, by the edge of the forest okay?” He looked at Ari who mockingly saluted in response. “Then you will fire the gun, shoot upwards remember, away from anyone, and only fire it a couple of times, enough to attract attention. Hopefully the slaves will run over to see what’s going on, as will my mother. I will then sneak into the slave house, where Robin should have stayed put, then will run with him. The train will leave Charleston at 2pm, I will wait by the railway line with him, then help him run and jump into one of the carts at the side, so he can get to New York.”

            Eddie spoke so quickly that he had to gasp for breath at the end of the sentence. His hands were shaking. So much rested on these next few hours, if they succeeded they would be heroes in their own right, if they failed, well, he didn’t want to think about that. Ari stood on her tiptoes and peered through the glass of the French windows into the kitchen. Fortunately his mother had remained in the dining room. “Right” she said determinately. “It’s half past one. Time to get this show on the road.”

            After exchanging a terse glance with him Ari shot off to the other side of the field, speeding through the long grass towards the trees. Eddie crept the opposite way around the house. Thankfully the area of grass leading towards the slave’s quarters had been left unattended, and Eddie stooped so he was buried by the scratchy crop. Upon reaching the bunkhouse, he ran to the back, so he was hidden from the view of the house.

 He arranged the grass around him, until he was satisfied that he was completely concealed, and then rapped lightly on the wood. Twice, then once, then four times. He paused, awaiting the response he had taught Robin.  Robin knocked back, three short, sharp raps and Eddie’s face fell. That was the response when someone else was in the bunkhouse. He prayed silently that Ari’s distraction would lure the other person out. There was no way the he could free two slaves…

The gun went off suddenly, the causing a flock of birds to come screeching loudly out of the foliage. BANG. It went off a second time. The other person inside the bunkhouse had still not left, to Eddie’s distress. When the third and final gunshot sounded, Eddie felt hopeless. Nobody had left the little wooden shack; it was impossible to free Robin. He knocked again on the thin wall, and heard Robin’s reply. His acknowledgement that they couldn’t save him.

Eddie as about to leave when he heard another gunshot, which startled him greatly. It was in much closer proximity than the other gunshots, it wasn’t coming from near the trees. Either Ari had been outstandingly clever and had figured out that they hadn’t accomplished their task yet, or somebody else had a gun and was shooting. Eddie hoped it was the first. The closer shot had the desired effect. Another slave, an old man, came sprinting out of the shack and ran in the direction of where the other slaves had congregated around the trees.

There was a pause, and then Robin’s grinning face appeared around of the edge of the structure. Eddie grinned back in relief then jumped to his feet and ran in the opposite direction, checking over his shoulder to see if Robin was following. By the time they reached the side of the house, Robin was panting loudly. Clearly although he worked manually all day his health wasn’t in the best condition. Eddie held up his hand, a signal that they could stop now that they were sheltered from view by Ari’s gigantic house. Robin doubled over wheezing.

“Robin, what’s wrong?” said Eddie, alarmed. “Nothin’” he wheezed, trying to straighten up and regain his breath. “I’m dandy.” “Obviously you’re not. Robin, tell me and I can help you. We need to go as soon as possible if we’re going to make the train and not get caught in the process. This is extremely risky.” Robin paused for a moment, then turned his back to Eddie and pulled up his shirt. A wave of nausea overtook him as he saw the fresh wounds. Whip marks, so deep the flesh around them glistened and sickly yellow pus seeped out of the edges of the festering cut. “Who did that to you…” Eddie said quietly. “Who do you think?” he spat venomously. “Him.” Eddie stared blankly at him, at a loss of what to say. Robin adjusted his shirt and moved his back tentatively, grimacing in pain when the material touched the cuts.

“The day before yesterday I was in the fields with Geoff. He had been real kind to me since what happened in the summer, looked after me you know? And then Ari’s old man just was in a foul mood. He was screaming and shoutin’ and swearin’ for no reason. I tried to ignore it, but when he started yelling at Geoff I was sick of it. So I jus’ told him to back off. And I got ten lashes. That’s why I gotta leave. He’s gonna end up killin’ me if I don’t, I just can’t hold my tongue. Please Eddie, lets go, I’m a dead man otherwise.”

Eddie wanted to tell him that he was a dead man either way. He had seen cuts like that before, and the people never lived long after they began to fester like that. But he couldn’t deny Robin this. “Got your breath back?” he asked. Robin nodded enthusiastically. “Lets go. We have about 10 minutes to get to the station, we’ve got to run, and fast.”

After skirting around the house to check that nobody was there, Eddie set off at a brisk pace down the dirt track. They needed to go as quickly as possible. His mother would have surely sent a slave to town to alert the police after the gun shot and they would be on their way. They couldn’t afford to get caught. Several minutes on the track past, Robin miraculously managing to keep up with him. He then darted left. There was another small track, concealed slightly by the hedges which guarded the dirty road to Ari’s house. Branches and leave hit them both in the face sharply, but they continued on, the persisting threat of being caught motivating their every move.

Eddie’s feet were blistering, his lungs screaming for air. He wanted to stop, gasp for breath. The only thing that kept him going was the memory of Ari’s face when she realised that their plan could work. Before she had been so broken, yet the incredulous joy at being able to something was inspiring.

The lengthy path finally came to an end, and they found themselves just outside the town centre, two minutes away from the train station. To Eddie’s horror, the town clock began to chime. It was 2 o’clock. They were going to miss the train. At that sound, Robin’s face fell, as his one hope crumbled in front of his eyes. Eddie stood fixed to the spot, stunned that their plan had failed. Robin grabbed his arm. “Come on.” He said dejectedly. “Lets go back.”

Exhaustion overcame the both of them. Before the adrenaline of the escape had kept them both going, but the icy winter wind beat them down, taunting them for their failed attempts. As they reached the dirt track Robin began to stagger. The blood from his wounds was seeping through the dirty white of his shirt, staining it with spots of red. Much to Eddie’s horror, his face had become gaunt and his deep chocolate eyes glassy. He offered a steadying arm which Robin took gratefully, leaning his tall body against Eddie’s smaller shoulder.

Suddenly Eddie stopped, sending up a cloud of dust and mud, scuffing both of their shoes. “What is it?” Robin said weakly, looking like he was on the verge of collapse. “The train…” replied Eddie quietly, trailing off slightly in thought. “Eddie that train has gone, its past two” replied Robin firmly, trying to adjust himself so he wasn’t weighing too heavily on Eddie. “No it hasn’t!” Eddie replied enthusiastically. “I more than a mile away from here but whenever a train comes into the platform or leaves I can hear it screeching along. We are only a few minutes away from the station, would we not have heard it by now?”

Hope filled Robin’s warm eyes again, and he stood up without the support of Eddie. “We need to get to the side of the track” he said commandingly. “If there’s been a hold up the train will surely start moving again-“ His voice was cut off by the deafening squealing of the train shifting onto the tracks. “Oh the irony” Eddie managed to say before being dragged off by a newly revived Robin back down the track, past where they stood earlier and winding down the roads to reach the station. Sure enough the train was moving, although it was slow enough to jump upon.

“Quickly!” Eddie yelled over the roaring of the train. “We need to run further down so nobody can see us!” Robin nodded eagerly and sprinted to the right alongside the tracks, ensuring they were a couple of steps ahead of it. When they finally reached an area concealed by bushes they stopped. The train was about a minute behind them.

“When they train comes, you need to wait for the 5th carriage. This one is always filled with goods, never occupied by anyone. The sides are flapping open, you need to stand on my hand and I will give you a leg up onto the train, got it?” Robin smiled in response. The fatigue from earlier was still obvious on his face, but Eddie could also see that heart-warming hopeful look in his eyes which reminded him why he was doing it in the first place.

“I can’t thank you enough” Robin said sincerely. “I never expected anyone to help me with this, let alone a white person.” “You shouldn’t have had to do it anyway” Eddie replied seriously. “It’s wrong what they do to you, they have no right to. It was my duty as a person to help you. I’m sorry your family died, I wish we could have got them out.” Tears filled Robin’s eyes and he hugged Eddie tightly. The train was close, they had a matter of seconds left to execute it correctly.

Robin pulled back and looked Eddie in the eye. “Romon. Romon Jobah” he said, holding out his hand. He laughed in response to Eddie’s comically puzzled expression. “Its my name. My real name. You asked me my real name after you first met me, and I refuse to tell a white man, self-preservation you know? But thanks to you I’m gonna be a free man!”

Eddie shook the hand, then nodded in affirmation. He knelt down as the fifth carriage approached, and put out his hands to form a step. Robin stood on them and launched himself into the vehicle. Eddie let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in utter relief.

The last thing he saw of Robin was his bloody back as he stepped behind the material in the carriage. Eddie hoped he would at least see New York before the infection on his whip wounds killed him.

May 5th, 1857

August 22nd, 1864 - Ariana

The two of them sat in the bunk room, hidden under one of the wooden frames. They had done this when they were children, when they were playing hide and seek with Gabe. But this time they were far too big for the both of them to hide. And the situation was far more dangerous.

“Your brothers going to kill me” Eddie said bleakly. Ari knew it was the truth. Trying to reassure him was pointless. But she did it anyway. “No he won’t” she said determinately. “I won’t let him.” “Ari stop, it’s pointless. I’m a deserter, a traitor. I fed secrets to the Union for Gods sake, I was stupid to come back here. I should have known they would kill me.” “You weren’t stupid” she replied softly. “You came back for me.”

Eddie said nothing, simply lacing her fingers with his and squeezing tight. “I should have done what you suggested years ago.” Ari continued. “Run away when you said. We could have gone North, like Robin, after my dad died. Then we wouldn’t be stuck in this hell hole.” “It’s not too late you know.” Eddie said cautiously. “We could wait for your brother to stop looking, pray that he doesn’t find us, then run to the railway.” “As if we could get a train out of here!” said Ari despairingly. “They already have enough problems getting weapons to Virginia, let alone transporting two run-away traitors to the North.”

Eddie paused for a moment, thinking. Then, “We could hide in the weapons train!” he exclaimed suddenly. “They wouldn’t think to look in there!” Ari’s heart beat increased in excitement. Maybe Eddie could survive, maybe they both could get out of Charleston and away from everyone that was stopping them from being happy, she thought. She made up her mind. “Let’s do it.” She said determinedly. “We need to go. Now.”

Eddie looked astonished, as if he hadn’t expected her to agree. “Shouldn’t we-“ “-No we can’t wait. Gabe will be in the city still looking for you, if we run we can make the midday train.” Eddie appeared unsure, but agreed. He stood up quickly, dusting the bits of straw and dirt stuck to his trousers. Holding up his hand he pulled Ari eagerly to her feet and looked focussed his bright eyes on hers.

“You sure?” he repeated. Ari nodded, and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then dragged him by his hand gleefully out the door. The tall grass in the fields tickled their legs, the few slaves left had barely tended to these ones outside the shack. Burning with energy they sprinted towards the road into town, praying to avoid Gabe. Ari’s heart was fluttering like the winds of hummingbird, ready to fly away in excitement. Finally I can get away from this place, she thought to herself as she ran elatedly alongside Eddie. Finally I can have a life of my own.

They rounded the gate guarding the front of the house Ari had grown to despise. She breathed deeply, bathing in the new found freedom that she had decided to claim. Eddie, who was a few paces in front of her stopped in his tracks. Ari skidded to a halt, the dusty gravel blowing up, marking the perfect white of her dress. Her feeling of delight sank like a stone. Gabe stood in the middle of the road, the large black stallion he had been galloping on earlier tied up to the fence at the side of the dirty driveway. His face was covered in a layer of grime, his expression furious. In his hands was the gun that their father had given him before he died. The gun their father had used to kill Robin’s family.

Eddie pursed his lips, holding his breath. He closed his eyes tight, waiting for the bullet to come. Ari felt sick to her stomach. Part of her had known that it would always come down to this. There was no way she could ever be perfectly content. People were so set on telling her what they wanted to be, she forgot that she could live her own life.

Gabe seemed to be thinking over his options. Before, he was so set on killing Eddie nothing Ari said or did could persuade him otherwise. But when confronted with the reality of murder, he was hesitant. Perhaps it was the way Eddie appeared. He was still so innocent; everything he had done whilst fighting had only been because he wanted to do what was right. His red hair shone in the bright morning sun, and his freckles stood out like blood against his now translucent skin.

“Gabe” said Ari in a trembling voice. “Please.” Gabe didn’t reply, continuing to focus the gun on Eddie. “Ari, don’t. He won’t change his mind, don’t try anything stupid. It won’t work.” Eddie said. She could tell he was trying to keep his voice strong, but it sounded thin and brittle. He held out his hand, and Ari stepped forward, grasping it so tightly it was painful. “Just do it quick, will you Gabe? Shoot straight.” he said hopelessly.

Ari’s vision blurred with tears and her shoulders shook. When she heard the shot time stopped. She could see the bullet whirring lazily through the air, like a common housefly as it zoomed towards him. She glanced at Eddie. His eyes were still shut, tears leaking out of the tightly clenched lids. Before she did it, she saw the little boy she had met when she was nine, so innocent, so vibrant, so full of life that he managed to drag her out of the suffocating darkness she had been feeling.

She jumped in front of him, still clasping his hand tight. She heard him yell agonisingly, and try to pull her back, but it was too late. The bullet burned as though she had been stabbed by a hot poker, and then she collapsed.  

August 22nd, 1864 - Eddie

            The front of her dress was stained crimson when Eddie finally managed to comprehend what had happened, like blood staining fresh snow. He had been dragged to the ground as she fell; her pale hand was still gripping his with all her remaining strength.

            “Ari…” he gasped in desperation, his breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. “Ari look at me.” Her eyes were already glassing over, but her eyelids fluttered and her grey eyes looked directly at him. “Ari you’re going to be okay, you hear me? You’re going to be fine. I promise. Ari?” He was hysterical now; his chest felt like someone was sat on it, his breathing constricted.

            To his complete astonishment Ari chuckled weakly. “I’m not going to be fine. I’m dying.” Eddie sobbed loudly, his voice hoarse and raw. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare. You can’t die. Ari you can’t die for me! Just hold on, okay hold on!” The light in her eyes became dimmer, and her powerful grip on his hand loosened slightly. This is it, Eddie thought. I am really going to lose her. “Ari” he croaked, pausing, not knowing whether to continue. Her dim eyes regarded him curiously. “Please don’t die” he whispered. “I love you”.

            She smiled, grimacing in agony afterwards as if she had disturbed the wound. Blood dripped out of the corners of her mouth. “Me too” she said in a tiny rattling voice. “Now.” She breathed heavily, the blood continuing to run down her mouth. “Now you have to run.”

            With that, her grip on his hand released, the light left her eyes, and Eddie was left holding her limp and lifeless body.

August 22nd, 1864 – Ariana

            “Run.” She said. His face began to blur out of existence. Eddie had to survive now. The world swam around the edges, her body feeling light as a feather as the tears dripped from Eddie’s cheeks and splashed onto her face. “I love you too” she wanted to say again, she wanted to make it clear that she had loved him all along. But as she tried to reach for that final breath the surrounding light dimmed.

And all she saw was black.

August 22nd, 1864 - Eddie

            Her body was a dead weight in his arms as he looked at her pale face in disbelief. He expected her to jump up any second, for it all to have been a joke. He shook her lightly, trying to wake her up, but her arm simply flopped to the side. His hands, still stained with blood, shook uncontrollably as he reached to close her eyelids lightly. A dark figure suddenly blocked the light surrounding the two of them. It was Gabe. His gun was still clenched in his hand, but tears had cut through the layers of grime on his cheeks, and his face was contorted.

            Eddie stood up to face him, his anger controlling his every move. Pushing his heartbreak over Ari to one side, he wiped the blood off his hands onto his patched trousers and clenched his fists. He wanted nothing more than to kill that man, to see him suffer the way Ari had suffered.  Through gritted teeth, he shouted “It’s your fault she’s dead. She’s your sister for Christ’s sake! You should have known she would do that!”

            To Eddie’s complete surprise Gabe responded in a broken voice; “I know.” “Shoot me then” Eddie said. “You were going to do it before, so why not do it not!” Fury burned in his veins. He could not stand the fact that Ari had died for him, he was not worthy of it. “COME ON YOU COWARD” he screamed so loudly that the birds perched on the trees flew away in a panic “JUST SHOOT ME JUST DO IT!”

He broke down. He knelt next to Ari’s destroyed body and sobbed, clutching her limp head to his shaking chest. He had felt pain before, but this was a whole different kind. This was someone tearing your mind apart from the inside out. It felt like half of his body had stopped functioning the moment Ari had died, he had lost the ability to love that she alone had given him. Looking up at Gabe, seeing the way his shoulders were slumped in sadness, he realized that he didn’t want to kill him. “Please Gabe” he said in a small voice. “Just shoot me.”

Gabe shook his head vehemently. “I heard...” he began in a shaky voice, pausing only to clear his throat. “I heard what she said to you... before she, you know...” “Before she died.” Gabe nodded, unable to say the words himself. “She died for you. And the last thing she said was for you to run. What does that tell you about me? My own sister didn’t trust me enough not to kill you, so she told you to run. So do it.”

Eddie paused, not knowing what Gabe meant. Could he really be offering to spare my life?, he wondered to himself in disbelief. “Run.” Gabe said, reiterating his point. “Go away, and don’t come back. She gave her life for you. Make it worthwhile.”

With that Eddie stood. He didn’t want to leave Ari. The thought to life without her was unbearable. But she is dead, he told himself continuously. She wouldn’t want him to waste his life. He nodded tersely at Gabe, who had proceeded to sit next to his dead sister. There was a glimmer of something in Gabe’s eyes; sadness, anger, Eddie couldn’t tell. He wanted to talk to Ari one last time, to tell her how much she meant. But the protective position Gabe had taken over the body told him that it was a bad idea. In his head as he miraculously walked away from the scene, he silently offered up his final farewell.

Goodbye Ariana Bellamy. I love you.

August 31st, 1864 - Eddie

Eddie stood concealed by the trees, as the mid morning South Carolina sun glared whilst the funeral procession neared its close. Following the polished mahogany coffin was Gabe, his dirty blonde hair scraped away from his face. He didn’t seem to be upset, just mildly irritated; frustrated at most. It proved a stark contrast from the Gabe he had seen on that awful day.  The humidity was suffocating, as if they were all insects trapped under a glass bowl. Gabe continuously fiddled with the stiff collar of his shirt in a pointless attempt in cooling off in the smouldering summer heat. He appeared to have much better things to do than to mourn the death of the person slowly decaying in the small wooden box; obviously he wanted to forget the whole ordeal. A smattering of people was behind him. Dressed in black, they resembled a flock of crows surrounding a carcass ready to devour it.

The coffin was lowered in a clearing between miles of dense forest. Lofty, gloomy trees loomed over all sides of the clearing, giving an ominous appearance. None of the mourners seemed to be mourning. The ladies with lace draped over their heads occasionally dabbed at their faces with scraps of material, yet none actually seemed to be crying. It was all a display. Eddie watched in disgust. He longed to be involved with the proper funeral, to be able to give Ari a final farewell. But he couldn’t. He was still in the same clothes that he wore on that day; the only clothes he owned.

Since the murder, he had been in hiding by the river. Gabe had blamed it all on him, so convenient that there were no witnesses. He knew he should flee, go north before he got caught and killed, but he desperately wanted to say goodbye properly to Ari. Etched on his face was a picture of agony and anguish. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his shoulders shook with silent, suppressed sobs. As the coffin began to be slowly lowered to its final resting place he fell to his knees and curled up on himself, as if he were falling apart and it was the only way to keep the pieces together. Clutching at his copper hair he remained like that until the funeral procession began to drone a hymn as they walked away from the burial site.

Eddie shakily stood, and walked towards the fresh grave. The sun was streaming through the gaps in the trees, casting strange spaces of brightness and shade across the meadow. He was no longer crying, but had his features forced into a stony, impassive expression. Ari wouldn’t have wanted him to cry. Upon reaching the grave he pulled out from his jacket a single white rose which he preceded to place on the newly upturned soil. The resolve in his expression wavered for a moment, and grief once again dominated his features as he kissed his hand then placed it on the soil. He then uttered the words he had offered as a silent prayer when he walked away from her body less than a fortnight ago.

“Goodbye Ariana Bellamy. I love you.”

With that, the harsh expression returned, and Eddie walked firmly out of the clearing, jaw clenched and tears swimming in his green eyes.

August 22nd, 1865 – Epilogue

                The man knelt next to an old but sturdy bench in Central Park. Unlike in Charleston, the summer nights in New York were crisp and cool. His thick woollen jacket made him look stockier than he actually was, and the dark scarf around his neck concealed his features. But his copper hair reflected the moonlight as his thin fingers worked diligently. In his hands was a small knife, which he was using to chisel away at the bench, carving words into the aged wood.

            Many people did this. After the war had ended, people’s anger had finally dissolved out of their burning hearts and left them with the emotional capacity to mourn. Memorials had been constructed, yet for many it wasn’t enough. It was essential that their needless slaughter was remembered. A lesson for future generations.  Names of brothers, fathers, husbands all lost in time were carved into stone statues or benches, in a desperate attempt that their loved ones plight should not be forgotten.

            The man finished notching away at the dark wooden bench. He stood up, his figure a silhouette against the bright moonlight. Admiring his handiwork for a minute, he leaned against the arm of the bench, the ghost of a smile on his freckled face.

            Ariana Bellamy – Forever in my heart

He stood there in silence, the night air surrounding him like a bubble, entrapping him in his own private universe. He paused, fidgeting with his hands as if he was debating something. Then; “Ari.” The man spoke. His in his voice was a tightly concealed pin. “I hope you can hear me. God I hope that more than anything. Just…” he broke off, lost for words. He started to walk briskly away, as if terrified someone would hear him. But something stopped him in his tracks and he turned back to face the bench.

“I’m so sorry I left you.” The man said again, tears dripping down his cheeks into his scarf. “I shouldn’t have left Gabe with you. I was a coward, I ran away to save myself. I’m sorry. I kept thinking that you were still alive. I couldn’t believe you were gone. I couldn’t go back to Charleston though, couldn’t give you a proper grave so this will have to do. It just drove me crazy you know? All of these memorials for the men who died fighting but nothing for you? Because you were just as much of a fighter as any of those men. You were just as much of a victim of the war as any of them! And you didn’t deserve to die.”

He was no longer crying now. It was if the act of talking to a dead person gave him comfort, solace. He continued; “You were right though Ari. About the north? It’s so much better here. I have a job! Imagine that, me having a proper job! I wear a suit and everything.” He chuckled to himself quietly. “I would say you would have liked it here. That I wish you were here with me. But I don’t need to wish it. I know that you are. You will always be with me, because it was you who made me who I am. I miss you. ”

     It all became so clear to Lucy as watched from afar, seeing her beloved Mina wrapped around Grayson, spinning around the room with eyes full of lust for each other. Lucy's heart dropped, all this time she had believed her growing affections of her best friend were becoming subtely noticed and returned. Was it Lucy in Mina's dream, if not Jonathan? But it had evidently been Grayson and once again, Lucy's feelings had been brushed under the carpet. In her mindset, she knew she could not possibly marry her best friend, but become lovers perhaps. Still, now it was all shattered and Lucy would have to put on a happy face and busy herself with clothes or outings as to not get upset further.

     Alistair was beside her, and like so many they were all transfixed on the couple. The desire in Mina and Grayson's eyes as they danced was so obvious, everyone was growing curious of the scandal and yet Lucy felt like she was choking. She didn't care about how it looked to everyone else, how shocked they were to see Mina and Grayson so close to each other, or how Jonathan felt about it. Now, Lucy was more preoccupied about not bursting into tears in front of everyone and having to explain why.

     Quickly, the blonde backed her way out of the crowd of people, Alistair had not yet noticed her and when he did she would hopefully be gone. But she just needed a second. A second to conceal herself and try to hold it all together, to put her mind in the right place before she returned to the party with a glad face.

     Luckily, everyone had gathered around the dancefloor, so Lucy eagerly made her way up one of the long corridors which perhaps led outside, to the cold sheltered quarters of Grayson's home. The air hit her skin and immediately, goosebumps prickled out. She shivered, and turned to lean on the wall, taking deep breaths and willing herself not to cry.

     But it would be so easy. So easy just to let the tears flow and the sobs escape, just for a little while, just to release the sadness within her. But she knew the second she gave in, she'd be stuck there all night crying and having to explain. "I hate this..." She whispered into the darkness, before placing a hand on her forehead, to try and control her breathing, her eyes watered and threatened with tears that she could not let escape. She could not.

     But then she heard feet approaching, heels clicking off the cold ground and someone emerging from the place in which she'd came. Lucy froze and tried to stand up straighter and make it look as though she hadn't been strung over a wall gasping for breath.

     "Oh, I'm so sorry..." She said, not turning to look at the approaching person, instead smoothing her dress down and keep her voice from breaking to obvious emotion. "I'm returning shortly." Please don't be Alistair, she sighed in her mind. The great buffoon was so pesky and ignorant to her ways and would surely hound her for the rest of the night wanting to know what was wrong with her. She was fine, she just needed air.

     But then, as she turned she saw a different face, one she had not been expecting. Clearly from the music inside the dance was still going on, yet the both of them had managed to wriggle free.