#always so interesting to pick up the rock of a fandom and peer underneath and realise there's this thriving network of

[nicolegendary]

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[picassho-18]

creative writing piece!

A/N: Hi guys! So I am in a introduction to prose writing class right now, and I just wrote a short story I am really proud of and thought I would share it on here. Its not marvel or fandom related but it is set in the 1800′s and I like to think it’s interesting! Please feel free to read it, and it would be great if I got some feedback on it! Thanks!!

Word Count: 2190

Trees on the Horizon

Short story by Kate

19 years old.

The words were simply not writing themselves down on the blank, yellowed paper in front of her. Her fingertips danced on top of the paper, fountain pen tucked in the crook of her hand as she debated the message she wanted to send. 

Elizabeth Mae Williams.

Her name was written neatly, perfectly, scrawled across the top with her best ink. But what was needed underneath was undetermined. Who was she and how did she want to convey herself?

Was she progressive? This unwavering and determined woman, alone in a cruel world made by men. Or was she someone who craved the comfort and support of one of those men? Surrendering to a role designated for women in this society that meant warmth and security, but limited any and all freedom.

While she was already her father’s possession, surely she must want escape from a limited lifestyle of servitude. But must that lead her into the arms of another man, a transference of property and dowry, a transaction, that never allows any form of decisions or wants on behalf of the woman?

Or could this promise of education provide the escape she craves? Could society be moving forward enough to allow her into a college that enables her into an independent individual?

All these thoughts swirled inside her head as she debated the perfect message, one that must convince a group of people that she was worthy of college, which would provide her passageway from the only world she knows; the ever shrinking Georgetown; a place she has called home since birth and yet her only desire is to leave it.

11 years old.

Elizabeth always sat in the front row. Every day, her mother would remind her how lucky she was that Georgetown had a schoolhouse, especially with how it allowed girls to learn with the young boys as well. So she sat upright and at attention, her eyes following the teachers every movement of her wrist as she wrote on the blackboard.

“Our lovely Georgetown has suffered many fires, but the very first one caused our town to relocate. Does anyone know what year that was?”

No one raised their hands. Elizabeth looked around, hesitant when none of the boys in the classroom appeared like they knew.

Slowly, she raised her hand, “It was in 1852, Miss Everling.”

The teacher clapped her hands together in joy, “That is correct, Miss Williams.”

The boys groaned, annoyed that she yet again got an answer correct. The few other girls glared at her from rows away. Only the red-headed boy gave her a soft smile of encouragement.

Miss Everling glanced around the room, noticing the hostility before clearing her throat and continuing the history lesson, “Alright, boys and girls. Can anyone explain how the fire department was established in Georgetown?”

Elizabeth peered around the room again, the answer on the tip of her tongue. Yet again no one raised their hands. And neither did she. Instead she looked out her window, staring at the trees on the horizon that seemed to grow farther and farther away.

12 years old.

Slowly passing the wooden buildings on their sides, the bar soon approaching on their left, Elizabeth and Mary matched stride for stride, the pair leaned close, heads tilted together. With ever so slightly hushed voices, Mary began to talk, explaining exactly what Elizabeth has been anticipating to hear since she had woken up this morning.

“And now my aunt is the Dean at DePauw University!” she exclaimed a little too loudly, earning a few undesired glances from a few of the drunks lounging outside the bar. Quickly, the pair walked past the entrance, before resuming, “she got promoted; the University thought it would be progressive and recognized her talent!”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise, not believing that a woman could actually become a Dean of the University. “Please tell me you are not joking!”

“I swear it. It is bottom fact!” Mary said, grinning madly, excitement coursing through the pair as Elizabeth heart swelled at the revelation, pulse picking up at the new possibilities springing into her head.

“Oh, how desperately jealous I am of your Aunt!” Elizabeth shook her head, grin still on her face, as she thought about how lucky —

Mary nudged Elizabeth playfully, interrupting her thoughts, “Don’t you think Dean Arabella Mansfield of DePauw University just sounds lovely?!”

A hopeful grin rested on Elizabeth’s face, as she sighed woefully, “Yes. It sounds splendid.”

14 years old.

Oh how lucky she was! Elizabeth was ecstatic, and a beaming smile shining brightly, as she had an old edition of a law textbook in her hand. The pages were battered, the spine worn and discolored, yet the name written inside the book was as evident and bright as day; Arabella Mansfield. 

Mary had requested any study materials that Arabella could spare, which led to her aunt sending back two law textbooks she had used to study for the Iowa Bar exam.

Elizabeth was walking home from Mary’s home, her heart beating fast like she just acquired pounds of treasure. 

The book opened in her hands, her fingers brushed over the pages delicately, squinting closely at the handwritten marks left behind by Arabella. Her focus was directed entirely on her new possession, her face decorated in awe at what was right there, between her hands.

She had no time to notice the approaching wagon, pulled by two brown horses, coming closer right in her path.

The man holding the reins shouted out, “Get out of the road!” trying to pull the horses to the side.

Elizabeth yelped out, barely getting out the way of the gigantic horses as they squealed at the close quarters. She lost balance, falling down, her dress now directly in the muddy water off the side of the road.

The man grumbled, “Ya damn girl!” before continuing down the road, getting control over his horses once again.

Teeth gritted, and hands clenched in tight fists, she calmed herself while her fingernails dug into her palms. Slowly, she gathered herself, trying her best to brush off the dirt and mud from her skirts, but her heart sank when she saw the book laying open, and faced down. She quickly got up and reached for the book, frantically wiping off the mud that was caking the exposed pages. Her chest tightened, tears threatening to spill down her face, but she refused.

Elizabeth straightened her back and continued her walk home.

15 years old.

Alone in the school room, save for the teacher that was gathering her worn leather bound books, Elizabeth sat in the front row, the familiar seat an echo of comfort. Her window framing a dark and cloudy landscape outside, as her classmates trudged home through the gusty winds.

Miss Everling walked right in front of the desk that separated the two ladies, soft eyes staring at the young student, “Miss Williams, do you know why I wanted to talk to you after the lessons?”

“No, ma’am. I do not know.” Elizabeth gulped, worry now eating away at her, as the teacher looked around the room, ample time on her hands.

“You are a very bright student, Miss Williams. Do you have any dreams of furthering your education?” Miss Everling asked simply, as Elizabeth’s breath caught, becoming excruciating aware of the book she had stashed in her bag, alongside her feet.

Elizabeth responded hesitantly, choosing her words wisely, “Well, it is not deemed very proper for a woman to go to a university. Not many would accept me.”

“But would you want to go? If you could?” Miss Everling continued to prod, but then said something that caused Elizabeth’s heart to skip a beat, “What if I could help you get into a University?”

Elizabeth sat completely still, confusion flooding her system, yet deep inside her, hope began to grow despite her refusing to believe.

“How?” she asked quietly, refusing to make eye contact.

Miss Everling smiled, seeing her student’s possible excitement at the notion. “I would make it work. Are you interested?”

Elizabeth stared at her, wonder in her eyes, breath caught in her chest, but she managed to nod, “Wholeheartedly.”

16 years old.

They were nicknamed the Growlers. The miners covered from head to toe in dirt and ash, save for the clean skin around their eyes, nose, and mouth. When Elizabeth and Mary would walk to the school house in the mornings, the Growlers would be breaking their fast from the west.

Today was no exception. They were huddled, coffee and biscuits scattered around the dirty bunch, nibbling hungrily around the food, most of them barely batting an eye towards the pair as they passed every morning. 

Mary always liked to pass them. For when they broke their fast, they would strip to their trousers and pants, leaving the sweaty and dirty skin of their abdomens and chests exposed. 

Elizabeth found it very entertaining,  gesturing to the men, “You are in such a dire search for a husband, are you not?”

Mary giggled under her breath, catching the eye of her favorite, one of the miners’ sons. She gave him a soft wave along with a slightly flirtatious wink, as she walked past, before whispering to Elizabeth, “Oh, however did you know?”

“It could possibly have been the desire in your eyes whenever they lack shirts,” Elizabeth stated, smiling at her friend’s action. However, there was a young miner Elizabeth looked out for; his vibrant red hair only partially covered by the ash of the mine. The books in her hands slightly forgotten as she looked for the recognizable color whenever passing, a blush creeping over her face whenever the pair made eye contact, and more soft smiles were exchanged.

17 years old.

The neighbor's old wife was in her usual position, a ball of yarn nestled on top of her lap, as she rocked steadily in her wooden chair.

 “Darling, I simply do not know why you are playing around with this little dream of yours.”

Elizabeth glanced up, seeing the disapproving frown plastered on her face.

She continued, a shadow covering her eyes, cast by the white house behind her, shaking her head as she eyed Elizabeth up and down, “You should stop before you become too unobtainable. You do not want to appear unattractive with that wild spirit of yours.”

Mr. Smith, her husband who was somewhere in the house, called out, “Is that John's daughter?”

His wife responded, “Yes, darling. She was just stopping by for a chat.” She turned back towards Elizabeth, “I really do want what’s best for you. I do not want you ruining that life your daddy worked so hard to give you.”

Elizabeth gritted her teeth slightly, stopping the rushed response she so desperately wanted to yell out, before she curtseyed, grabbing the front of her skirts in the proper fashion and tipping her head. “Thank you, ma’am. I will most definitely keep that in mind.”

Suddenly her husband called from inside the house, his voice louder and booming, causing both Elizabeth and his wife to flinch suddenly, “Woman! Get in here and fetch me some whiskey!”

The wife glared and shook her head one last time at Elizabeth before standing up and brushing her skirts off. Elizabeth curtseyed one last time, calling out to her husband inside the house, “How a good afternoon, Mr. Smith!” and nodded a goodbye to the dutiful wife, “And you as well.”

27 years old.

She sat there, alone in the middle of the school house. The chair was much smaller than she remembered; The wooden desk in front of her, covered in etchings and symbols from past students from Georgetown. Looking around, Elizabeth observed the eerily familiar walls, old and withering maps adorning the wooden planks, and the same dirty and rusted blackboard at the front of the room. Chalk laid scattered about the floor, the dust collecting in shallow piles on the floor.

The window to her right, the one she would usually sit next to, was open. Outside, she saw the familiar head of red hair, her husband giving her a moment alone.The landscape beyond him consisted of an array of trees scattered about the horizon that still called out to her, as it always has.

But now. 

Now she knew what it was like to have an education outside the four walls of the small school house. Now she knew exactly what it took to go beyond these confines of the small Georgetown, and that she had what it took to get there.

Elizabeth now knew what was beyond the trees in the horizon, and she planned to know even more.

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Let me know if you liked it! And if you would like to see more of my not fandom related writing as well! Thank you!