Today is the day, the day I am to get married. I still have not met him, only seen his photograph. I still have not the faintest idea what he is like. I  still don't know if I will even love him, he could be a completely mean person, who has zero respect for me and only treats me as an object used for childbirth and housekeeping, or he could be a good person whos just into younger girls and will actually treat me like a person, but, knowing my parents choices in men, it is most likely the first option.

The maids came in and began the process of getting me ready. I knew every single one of my maids by name, I even had a favorite, her name was Michelle. Michelle was a plump girl, who was 5 years older than I, she had light brown hair, a dusting of freckles and a round face, a strong brooklyn accent, and she even wore a pair of pince-nez. She was always kind and she would always sneak me small things and would always talk to me with the biggest smile. I thought she was pretty, very pretty.

As I was reminiscing about how beautiful my Michelle I suddenly hit with the feeling of breathlessness, and quite literally I was breathless, the corset around my waist was just too tight and it was cutting off my airflow.

“Too tight.” I said breathily. The maid working on the corset, Chloe, muttered a small apology, “I'm sorry m'lady.”

“It is quite alright, and please, do call me Molly.” I told her as soon as I could breathe again. I sent her a small smile to add even more proof that it was alright.

She wearily smiled back  while taking a few steps back, then she bolted straight out the door. I assumed I had just scared her and for that felt extremely bad. But then, Michelle walked through the door, in all her glory, she looked as though she was an angel walking along a path of light that would never, ever dim.

“Hello ma'am.” Michelle said kindly with a smile. It only took a second before I replied.

“Michelle you know there is no need to call me that foolish title. It makes me feel as though I have just newly turned 60 instead of my age of 18. Also there is no need to use the idiotic accent blocker my Father made you learn, yout accent does not bother me”

“I know Molly, it is just dat I doan want your fadder tuh hear me or any of de othuh girls call yuh Molly. Ya' dig? We could get in big trouble and maybe even lost our jobs. Okay?” Michelle replied, now free of the trained accent blocker.

“I know Michelle, I would not want you to have to lose your job either, you happen to be the only bosom friend in the whole world, and losing you would tear me in half. Which is why it pains me to say this but, I have to move after the wedding. I have to move to the capitol with my new husband William.”

“But why, why can yuh not just stay here, or what? We do somethin' about dis just please do not go, dis whole place would be dull wit'outcha and I would feel as though a piece of my heart is missin'.”

“I know, I will miss you dearly too but, this is something I must do. There is truly no getting out of this marriage.” I told her softly with a sad smile.

Michelle did not look well after that, she gave me a look of pure unadulterated sadness, then her bottom lip started to wiggle and she burst into tears.

“Hey please dont cr-” I attempted to say. I was abruptly cut off by her running out the door with tears streaming down her face. 

Well, I thought, that went about as well as expected.