Florence Day

Plot-
A group of people come together at a wealthy estate.
Characters-
Florence Day-  A writer. She is 20 with blonde hair and looks like the chick from Alice And Wonderland.
Emily Downing- Ms Havisham or the grandma from Cold County Farm. Henry left her after she had there first child, who died. Florence's mother gave her away because she wanted to travel.
Charlotte Moore-  Maid. Kind of like Gwen on Dowton Abbey.
Benjamin Hales- Love interest. In love with Charlotte. Pianist. Emily set him up with Florence because she wanted Florence to be happy.
Clara Anderson-Crazy aunt. Emily's sister and really in love with Henry.
Henry Downing- The estranged husband of Emily. Who they bring back to make Emily happy. Florence is his daughter there child never died Emily gave her away because she wanted to see the world. But got sick before she could go.
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Chapter 1-

London of the 1880's. The London of my youth. The sound of carriages and the drumming of rain.
The sky was a dark grey, and the sun would rarely appear through the clouds. A grey London afternoon affected my mood. The canary in my window cage chirps rang out like music. They helped cure my nerves of what was to come.

My room smelled of smoke. That smoke arose for my chimney. When I was little I used to imagine they were animals and that would become real and fly away. Flying off into the beautiful sunset. The glistening rainbows of colors carrying it away.

My carriage would arrive shortly. Leading me down the bumping cobblestone road toward the estate. My novel was unfinished. And leaving my house I would not be able to bring my typewriter. The road was long and I had brought to much luggage already.

Downing Estates was a quaint little manner down in Essex. Far away from the hustle and bustle of the city that I was used to. I had been there once when I was little. The gardens stretch across miles. The flowers blossom in the spring and a small, cobblestone, bridge sits across the lake. The elm trees in the forests and the wheat fields with small farms and mud flats.

Emily Downing, the Lady of the House, was a fine appreciator of the arts. She had a vast library, and expensive paintings and tapestry's lined the walls. She was a fine gardener and her house was full of beautiful flowers. Expensive vases. And fine wine. There taste in art was wonderful. And I was honored to be invited to there house.

There carriage pulled up to my house. There fine Arabian horses pulled it. Chestnut brown with manes, the color of the night sky. There eyes twinkled liked the stars.

I climbed inside the carriage. My attire was not normal for winter weather. I never like wearing the petticoats. They were to cold for our weather. I much proffered frocks and coats. My long blonde hair was hidden under my cap. My friend had always told me I dressed like an American. I took it as a complement.

As a British citizen I did not consider myself a revolutionary. That kind of thing only excised in France. The streets of Paris were lit with lights. Music and poets danced through the streets. They culminated the true bohemian spirit. Not me.

As we drove down the desolate London streets a thought came to me. I considered how fortunate I was to have money. Any amount would be better than what these people had. The people who lived on the street and begged for a single penny. If they could not pay they would be left on the streets or forced to go into the poorhouses.

And still they kept on. Such spirit! Even when they saw nothing. When there was no prospect in there gloom. There they sat everyday. Looking for work or begging for meals. Refusing to give up and be forgotten.

This is what I saw. Heading down the road towards Essex. I suddenly regretted forgetting my typewriter. This was sure to be an interesting trip and I had such a terrible memory. I was meeting with Emily Downing, a fine appreciator of the arts and a fan of my books. She invited me, along with several other guests, to stay with her for the week.

I had also received a letter about who else that would attend:

Benjamin Anderson- A poet and pianist from Kent. He also wrote poetry. One of my favorite poems by him was;
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Love is true,
Love is blind,
Loving someone who is divine.
Her splendor,
and her heart.
Could make a fellow fall apart.
Bask the glory of her hair.
So radiant and fair.
Her lips put rubies shine to shame.
Her eyes like diamonds.
This woman, I hope,
will never change.
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He had such a way with words.
And I would be meeting him. One of the greatest poets of our age. Perhaps I could get his signature?

Then there was his mother, Clara Anderson. She was Lady Downing's sister. The rumor going around was that she had lost her mind. I didn't blame her though. If my love just left one day I would cry to. Sometimes I think people are to critical. If we are created to love only one, and that one left, who would we love?

That was all the guests. I guess Lady Downing didn't want to big a party. It seemed impractical to invite three guests to your party. Especially with such a big house. You'd think you would want as many bedrooms as possible filled. Perhaps there were other guests and they couldn't attend? There was only a weeks notice. It wasn't the London season, not the best time for a holiday.

I had fallen fast asleep in my carriage when we pulled up to the manor. I was shaken awake by the bumpy road. The familiar jolt of the cobblestones.

Chapter 2-

Downing Manor was the most beautiful house ever. The road came around in a loop in front of the house. The walls were tall and ancient moss grew on them. The gate hinges rusted. Showing the true age of the house. All around the courtyard were beautiful roses and tulips.

The butler was waiting for me at the door. He was an elderly gentleman. He had certainly aged since I had seen him last. He showed me inside where I saw the most beautifully decorated entry room. The walls were completely wood. Centuries old. The pillars had hand carved faces on them. Each depicting a Greek god or legend.

I was show to my room.

Since entering the house I had only seen the butler. There were no other sign of life. There was dust on the teapots and the paintings had gone uncleaned. It had become old and rundown since my last visit.

"Where is Ms Downing?"

The butler was a nice fellow. But he did not answer me. Simply turned and walked away leaving me standing outside my door. The bed was much bigger than I remember it. I ran my hand along the soft linen sheets and remembered my summer here. The house use to be teeming with life. The talk of parties. Now it was just another old relic on the shelf.

At that moment I had quite a fright. A woman appeared behind me. Not an old woman but a young woman. The maid Charlotte Moore.

"I'm sorry to startle you, I was just wondering if you needed anything?"

Charlotte looked like a nice girl. She was slightly younger than me. Her black hair was pulled in a tight bun. There was something strange about her eyes. They were the color of grass or leaves in the trees. They stuck out against her skin.

"No I'm fine. Maybe you could tell me where the other guests are?"

"Of course. Mr Anderson is in the lounge practicing piano. Ms Anderson is in the garden. And Ms Downing is upstairs."

"Thank you. What is your name?"

"Charlotte, ma'am."

"Just call me Florence."

I walked along the hollow halls until I came upon the lounge. The sweetest music.(Beethoven's fifth.)
Emanated from the room. I followed it like an aroma. It led me to a room, highly panelled. With amazing stone floors and a huge window that led to the garden and the forest. A gold chandelier hung from the ceiling and a grand piano sat in the middle. The source of the sweet sound.

Sitting at the piano playing was the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. His brown hair was lightly quaffed and his face was covered in dirt. He was wearing his riding clothes and his back was completely wet. He stopped playing as I entered the room.

"No please continue! That was extremely beautiful."

He began playing a small tune. A waltz. I started blindly dancing to it. I wouldn't be waltzing by myself but if he joined me then who would play the piano?

The rain had stopped now. The sun shined through the window. Lighting the diamonds that hung from the chandelier. Creating crystal patterns on the walls that I danced under.

I have always debated fairy tales. They couldn't possibly be true. No single moment could be perfect.
But dancing under the lights. A beautiful song playing and the sun shining on my face. This is as close as you can possibly get to perfect.

Chapter 3-

The courtyards at Downing had always been beautiful. You could get lost in the labyrinth of hedge mazes. When I was little I used to be scared of the stone gargoyles. My Governess told me that god encased the monsters in stone. And left them there to watch over us. Like stone angels.

While in the garden I happened upon Ms Anderson. She was an older woman. A spinster. She wore a black frock and traveling coat. He hair was kept under a bonnet. She was picking the petals of a rose and muttering to herself.

"Hello." She did not meet my gaze. She just continued picking petals and singing."Ms Anderson? My name is Florence Day. We met when I was a child." She just continued to pick. Pick, pick, pick.Until the petals ran out and she finally looked at me.

 Her hair was stringy and her cheeks hollow and gaunt. Her eyes were lined with red cracks. And her skin was pale as the moon.

"Hello girl." Her voice was hoarse and cracked.

People often say that eyes are windows into the soul. Ms Andersons soul was cold an lonely.

"Sit with me." I almost made an excuse. I didn't want to appear rude but sitting next to her made me feel like a banshee.

"Why must people hide?"

"Excuse me?"

"I believe. That if people hide long enough they become what they're hiding from."

"I'm sorry what?"

"Becoming what you are though being something else."

I had never considered this, but maybe it was true? If a criminal pretend to be a priest. He might learn the ways of the church?

I considered leaving that very second. But I was eager to hear more of our conversation. I love philosophy and this seemed an interesting kind.

"Liers, liers, liers! Cheaters, cheaters, cheaters! Fakers, fakers, fakers! Slander! Swine! Stealers! Fakers! Cheaters! Takers!"

At that point I though our conversation was over. The rumors were obviously true. Something had happened to this woman. Just as I stood up she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me close. Whispering in my ear.

"Cheaters! Fakers! Liers! Stealers! Backstabers! Swine! Fakers! Cheaters! Takers! Shallow! Selfish! Cheaters!"

I broke free of her grasp and made my escape. Several weed caught on me. Trees hit my face as I ran. I came to a clearing and gathered my breath. What could she possibly mean? Maybe the rose just triggered something in her mind. Or maybe the sound of my voice? Or the fear in my eyes?

One thing was apparent. I had not been invited here simply for the art. Benjamin may have been charming but I had not seen Ms Downing all day. I pictures her. In a window somewhere staring at me.

Dinner that night would be a disaster.

Chapter 4-

While doing my hair, I looked at my reflection, I no longer felt like a girl. I felt like an adult. No longer did my governess help me. I was able to help myself. The long elegant frock that had been left for me sat on my bed. Its beautiful blue sheen and diamond tiara fit perfectly in my hair.

I had been afraid to meet Ms Downing. Especially after my encounter today with her sister. Her words echoed in my head."Cheaters! Fakers! Liers! Stealers! Backstabers! Swine! Fakers! Cheaters! Takers! Shallow! Selfish! Cheaters!" Over and over. I hoped that tonight would cure me of my nerves. The thought of seeing Benjamin again made me very happy. Our last meeting was very short and I would love for him to take a stroll with me.

I was still arranging my tiara when Charlotte knocked on my door.

"Come in."

"Ms Florence, dinners set."

"Thank you Charlotte." I noticed her plain maids outfit. "Is that what your wearing?"

"Yes Ms. I'm just the help."

"You need something else!" I handed her a equisite pearl necklace. "Here try this on."

"I cant have it."

"It's ok. You can give it back to me after dinner." It was amazing. It brought out the green color of her eyes. She smiled at me. It felt good to see a smile again.

We walked down the marble staircase. I felt like a princess or a character in a Jane Austen novel.

Benjamin was waiting for us. A true gentleman, so few in London these days. He looked like prince of my dreams. Even more amazing than he did this afternoon.

"You look divine." Benjamin was not talking to me. He was talking to Charlotte. His eyes fixed upon her, admiring her. There was no denying her beauty.

Ms Anderson had a smile on her face. I was relieved to see it. After her episode today I thought she was worse than I heard. But as she watched her son and Charlotte talk. There was a certain light in her eyes. A light that shined in the room. A light that made me feel happy.

It was then I met Ms Downing. Her disapproving face glared at Benjamin and Charlotte. She looked at them as though their attraction was unnatural. She saw my looking at her and instantly changed her expression. She was now smiling a big smile.

She was not much older than me. Maybe 20 years or so. She wore a black cocktail dress. The kind they wear in America.

"Hello, sweetie. My name is Emily Downing."

"Nice to meet you Ms Downing."

"Just call me Emily."

"Ms Moore don't you have some pots you should be scrubbing?"

Ben and Charlotte looked deeply offended at this, as was I, and for a moment, Charlotte almost stayed. But Charlotte was the only maid in the house, and as much as I wanted her to stay and chat, she had a job to do. The butler took her by the shoulder, and escorted her out.

We sat down at the dinner table. Fine wine and perfectly cooked roast. For a while it was fun. We sat and talked about the weather, sports, and music. Emily was certainly a lover of the arts. She praised my books and Benjamin's poetry. Emily asked me to sing and Benjamin to play piano for her.

At the end of our duet Emily was in tears.

"Beautiful! Beautiful!"

Even Ms Anderson was praising us.

At that moment though. Charlotte walked in to clean the table and Emily yelled at her. I realized I had given Emily's necklace to Charlotte.

"Thief! You little thief! Give me that back!" Emily ripped the necklace of Charlotte's neck. Priceless pearls spilling onto the ground. Charlotte ran off crying. Benjamin was just about to go after her when Emily stopped him.

I realized the mistake I made, but it was already to late. Emily was following Charlotte through the door, yelling at the for being a thief. If I told Emily that I gave the necklace to Charlotte. I would leave, and never see Benjamin again. I couldn't let that happen. I kept my mouth shut.

Benjamin could hardly believe what had happened. Neither could his mother.

"Charlotte would never do that."

I was surprised. Benjamin was on first name terms with her. His mother was Emily's sister. Maybe he saw her a lot?

"I think I'll go to bed. This is to much excitement for me."

 We bid Ms. Anderson a goodnight. I was just about to retire myself when Benjamin stopped me.

"Would you like walk with me in the garden?"

I agreed, and we walked together into the frigid night air.

Chapter 4-

We walked along the moonlit path. The light reflected off the flowers in bloom. We were talking. We shared so many common interests. Our love of art and music. We both loved to read and write. We loved the opera, Don Giovanni. And though I had only known him a short while. I felt we had a real connection. We were having so much fun we had almost forgotten about Charlotte. But eventually we reached the topic.

"Why do you think Emily freaked out like that? It was only a necklace? It's not like she doesn't have plenty of money already?"

"Maybe it was sentimental?"

 I hesitated to tell him I had given Charlotte the necklace. I didn't want to ruin a perfect night. Benjamin couldn't let it go. He kept obsessing over Charlotte.

"Let's stop. Let's enjoy this beautiful night and forget about everything else."

"Of course. I'm so sorry. I realize it is beneath me to think of a servant girl. Still I believe she has her rights."

"Of course. You are such a wonderful poet. Maybe you could write one about the moon?"

"I'll try. "There was no light. Left that night. One Winters Moon. There was a wolf howling at the moon.No clouds in sight. Clear and bright. The owls were hooting with delight. One Winters Moon. The giant peaks, the silver streaks, cascading from the gloom. Upon at chance at first glance I happened upon a stream. The lights danced, the water moved, the spell was cast upon me. All the little creatures slept. One Winters Moon. It's rubbish!"

"No! It's beautiful! It's amazing! You're so creative to just pull something up like that!" It was truly a beautiful poem. It made me jealous that my writing talents could not produce something like that. Especially with such short notice.

"How are you enjoying the house? I've spent many weeks here and it had never been this beautiful. The flowers are all in bloom!"

"It is truly amazing."

We paused. The whole universe seemed to stop. For that moment, we were the only things that existed. We were the whole reason this perfect night was created. For us to be together. And so we kissed. It was the most amazing moment ever. People say, that when you meet your true love, you will know them by the first kiss. I felt as if I new Benjamin already.

"Florence." He kneeled on the floor. The light falling across his face.

"I know we just met, but I already cannot imagine life without you. Will you marry me?"

If I had not been so happy I would have seen the sadness in his eyes. But I was naive then. A foolish girl who would say yes to the first man who came along. Just hoping to find my prince.

"Oh my goodness! Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! I will marry you!" I pulled him close and we kissed again.

I though I had finally found the one. My one true love.

To say this is how the ended would be a lie. This was not the happily ever after you have heard of. This was the beginning of a slippery slope.

Chapter 5-

Our engagment was enounced the next morning. (We has decided to give Ms Downing time to recover from her ordeal.) I felt incredibly soory for Charlotte. I even apologized. She did not exept. The strange thing was she didn't seem mad about Ms Downing or the necklace. She seemed abgry aout something else entirly.

Breakfast that morning consisted of praising from the relatives and scolding by the staff.

The seemed to know something I didn't.

I was walking through the corridors. Admiring the tapistries and vases. When all of a sudden, I encountered Ms Anderson.

Her glamourus appearance had disapated. The beautiful white dress she has worn last night, had been turned into black mourning clothes. Her hair was once again stringy. She looked like a common begger on the streets.

"Vixen! Siren! Witch! You have destroyed true love! Witch! Just like your mother!"

"You take them from your true loves! You take them! Then you bury them in sadness!"

 The shocked me greatly. What had I taken? Surely she could not mean Benjamin. We were so happy together. Ms Anderson's eyes flared her inmost anger showing.

And then I realized something.

Benjamin had praised Charlotte. Not me. Charlotte in all her radiance. The way he looked at her. Like he longed to be with her, and then the way her looked at me. Like I was nothing comopared to her. Her ruby lips outshined mine. Her eyes shined brighter. Her hair was more beautiful.

Benjamin loved Charlotte. And Charlotte love Benjamin.

Ms Anderson took my hands."Do the right thing Florence. Her face was so sincere. Her skin was warm to the touch.

"I had no idea! I will break off my engament with Benjamin, at once!"

"No! No, my child! They must not know I told you!"



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All the sadness of the world. Pandora was the first woman on Earth. Zeus ordered Hephaestus to create her. The gods endowed her with many gifts: Athena clothed her, Aphrodite gave her beauty, and Hermes speech. Prometheus stole the fire from heaven as punishment. Zeus gave Pandora to Prometheus' brother. Pandora was also given a beautiful container which she was not allowed to open. Impelled by her curiosity. Pandora opened it, and all evil spread over the earth. She didn't close the container, it was to late, everything had escaped. Except for Hope. Pandora was so sad for what she had done, and was afraid that she would have to face Zeus' wrath. Since she had failed her duty, Zeus did not punish Pandora, because he knew this would happen.

It was her design.

I was Pandora.

I looked in the mirror. My hair had become soaked from the rain. I looked at my reflection. There was hope that my life would become like a novel. That I would meet the man of my dreams and go on amazing adventures in unprouncable countries. But there was hope for every day. Hope is the blood of the universe. What keeps us going.
I normally do not believe in happy endings. I thought I had met my dream man. A true gentleman.
A prince to take me too my wildest fantasies. A charming gentleman. But now I saw that was all gone. I saw the lies of what they had told me. The true reason I had been brought here.