The hot, dense air of the final days of summer's heat lingered suffocatingly in the Almshouse chapel. The multicolored beams of light flooded the room, bouncing off the floorboards and grazing the walls. Eliza knelt between the pews: her back straight, legs tucked neatly beneath the layers of skirts, her head dipped respectfully in prayer, and her fingers interlaced into a tight clasp. The dizzying feeling pulsated throughout the room, the silent room. Faint voices of those floors below her floated with a disconnected manner as midday stretched onwards at a prolonged stillness. Whispers slipped from Elizabeth's lips in fervent piety, her hands trembled as her pleading prayers for guidance, for forgiveness, for assistance carried forth. Eliza's heart pounded, legs ached from the stiff numbness of remaining on her knees, and palms sweat profusely from the increasing anxiety and warmth in the room. With a lurch, she swayed and steadied by leaning against the pew, her eyes squeezed shut once again. The sweltering temperature encased the woman like a thick winter blanket, prompting a reddened flush to burn across her neck and face and wave of illness to curdle her stomach. At the realization of potential sickness, Elizabeth stumbled to her feet and slowly dragged her reluctant feet into the office. With an automatic instinct, the bag and its contents dumped onto the desk. However, in the ignorance of such familiarity, Eliza had not taken note of the otherworldly glow that bathed the room in ethereal rays. By the time she had properly registered, the sorrowful whispers of wrongdoing filled her head, planting seeds of uncertainty. Days of such occurrences followed by tossing and turning of minimal sleep had worn Eliza down as she sank into the chair, unable to avoid the voices growing louder in her head. A pounding headache grew as Elizabeth struggled to fight off and deny the growing opposition that resounded in her thoughts. Such attempts were futile as exhaustion lulled Eliza into bleary submission to the rising accusations that plagued her internal judgments.
All of her previous plans had seemingly disappeared as reality slid into a daydream haze, her only focus was the sheets of rain poured buckets down over the dreary gray surroundings. The clip-clopping of the horseshoes against the cobblestones played into the symphony of the city. Perched upright in the carriage, Elizabeth peered out at the foggy scenery with disappointment. She squinted in hopes to make out the towering buildings better to no avail. The usual hustling excitement of the city was dulled by the unfortunate weather. A few paperboys desperately hawked their wares, florists carried bundles of flowers, and peasant families strode briskly down the streets. Such sights were boring to the restless girl. Her feet dangled above the floor of the carriage, swishing back and forth repeatedly in impatient excitement. She was alone. The ribbon strap of her bonnet was tied too tightly to her chin and irritatingly itched.
The memory was playing out before her as Elizabeth was forced to relive her own story. Her heart throbbed as she saw the familiar brick building, the familiar wooden door and stone steps. The fear and trepidation accelerated her pulse as Elizabeth exited the carriage, her mouth drying as she instinctively moved towards the doorstep, each footfall was heavy with regret and stalling. Her vision was blurred around all the scenery about her, except for the door. The fateful door. The door that had led her to her life here. The one that had caused her story to unfold. Swallowed harshly at the sandpaper feeling to her throat. Eliza's eyes widened like saucers as she shakily raised her fist to knock on the door, one time, two times, three times. Each knock thudded against the door with the weight of her grief, her heartbreak. As the door swung open to a frazzled raven-haired man peering down at her, Elizabeth rigidly froze. His ocean blue eyes scanned over her briefly as he awaited an explanation, and she provided none. Dread filled her chest as she watched the man grow bewildered and then offer up a sheepish smile. What Eliza had not prepared for was the tidal wave of emotions that exploded as soon as the man with wavy curls of coal wrapped his strong arms around her and squeezed tightly. The feeling of his embrace caused an abrupt stab of nostalgic longing that bitterly clenched her heart. Elizabeth's hands flew to grasp at the wooden bear pendant for a desperate sense of comfort as the relentless waves of guilt and regret inundated all of Elizabeth's rational thoughts.
Sickened and fading in and out of conscious understanding, Elizabeth slumped deeper into the protective shield of the large chair within the office. An uncomfortable, thick bile rose up in her throat, she swallowed at the nausea and barely gained a grip of her fragile emotional state. A few stray tears slid down her cheeks, whether from the continual depletion of her pride and sense of morality or from the immense physical weariness weighing down on her. The whispers lessened to a point that they were more bearable as the eerie luminescence began to fade from the quarters. Silence hung in the air of her office which only accentuated the heaviness of Eliza's breathing. With a choked out croak, her voice crackled throughout the room but was barely above a murmur, "I am so sorry. So, so sorry."
Elizabeth's confession remained unanswered, the only light in the room was naturally pouring from the various windows. Her fingers trembled as she tightly gripped the arms of the chair to propel herself upwards. Slumped into a kneel before the bottom drawer of her desk, pushed aside the patriotic violet and yellow tablecloth, and slid the key securely into the lock. Her fist was weaker as she turned the key and rifled aside other papers until she found a decorative flask. Elizabeth's fingertips danced over the painted flowers before pressing the opening to her lips. The smoldering, unforgiving burn slid back her tongue and tauntingly caused further tears to gloss her eyes. The liquid was gulped swiftly to the point it drowned out the abrupt rise of loathing. The cold, judgmental voices of the sinister light had passed, but the burden of guilt and heartbreak persisted to smother Elizabeth.
@Lizmun @mochalattes @TheScruffyLJ @_Owlet @yuomr/jason
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