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kaleidoscope 02

They didn't understand. None of them would ever understand. Her father wanted her to marry a man of his choosing, a man he deemed a perfect match simply because he had alot of gold to his name. Vince Chamberlain. The man was a swine of the most disgusting kind, his body nothing but bones and fat, he wore the most absurd outfits , his personality just as grotesquely matched. Honor, love, honesty were foreign concepts to him. He had no heart and she feared no soul either... Sitting opposite Annabelle, Vince could not help but smile at his thoughts. His proposed bride, aah, what an extraordinary wench she was. Beautiful, young and spirited, like a prized and proud horse. He chuckled at the comparison, yes, just like a horse he'd enjoy breaking her. She hated him that he could see by the look in her eyes, but he had her father wrapped so tight around his finger she'd have no choice but to marry him. He smirked. "Does something about me amuse you?" Annabelle drawled. He was looking at her and he was wearing that smirk he wore often around her. She found it particularly disturbing and she itched to jump across the table and smack it off his face. "Just thinking of the road ahead my sweetling." he replied. "And what road would that be?" she looked him up suspiciously. He feigned suprise at her question. Ass!! "Why our marriage at the end of the year dear love." Her father sitting across the table broke into a coughing fit while attempting to mask the look of fear on his face. Pathetic, how could a man fear his own daughter? She was a woman. Women where created to abide by a man's rule. Yet Morgan Wortwick seemed to have missed that lesson in life seeing as that wench of a daughter had him by the nose. Pathetic. "What. did. you. just. say?" she a furious. Good. "Had your father not told you yet? Just this morning we concluded that you and I shall be married come December." She looked at him the way one would look at a pile of dung then turned an inquisitive look on her father. "Father?" The room was suddenly too hot. He wiped his forehead. "Anna... my dear child i..." she didn't wait to hear the rest.She was out the house before he was done. He slumped on his chair. He was so tired, so very tired. If only she was more like her mother had been, obedient and mellow. But no, she was as he had been in his youth. Spirited and defient. He smiled. His little Anna. He was mad!!! There was no way she was going to marry that old croon!! She'd rather die!! As she moved along the path to the hill she started to run. Faster and faster, she wanted to get away, from him, from that house, from the guilt she carried with her everyday, from her life. She wanted to live and this, this that she'd done for the past 21 years was not living. So engrossed in her pain was Annabelle that she failed to see the man standing just ahead of her until she tripped and fell in the mud, her lip hitting the man's boots. Before she could even acknowledge her pained lip she was suddenly off the ground as a pair of big hands lifted her up. "Miss are you ok?" through the confusion only two things registered in her mind; the pain in her lip and the pair of eyes as dark as night looking right at her. She froze, frowned then screamed. She was swinging her arms towards the stranger's face and as her elbow connected with his forehead she felt him release his grip on her waist. She fell again but this time she had the sense to get up and run. Ugh, the woman was mad! Why the hell did she hit him, He rubbed his aching forehead. She ran away. So be it, he was heading home. But she went into the hill instead of back wherever she came. Fuck, it was twilight and if she got lost she'd be here forever. Damn it. He turned and started back up the hill after her. Damn woman. . . . tO bE conTInueD
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