Dear Past, You Suck!

Another Stupid Celebration

I knew today something big was happening. The servants were in a rush about the house, cleaning, cooking, decorating. Eleanor barely had enough time in the morning to help me get ready before she was called away. I stumbled downstairs and was amazed by how much the servants had already done. It was immaculately cleaned, even more than usual. A doctor could probably perform a surgery in this room without having to clean. Plants had been dragged in from who knows where and new even more expensive decorations were placed on tables around the main hall. Everything glittered and looked like the king himself was visiting. It hurt my eyes.

The Hemertons were not at the dining table so I decided I would skip breakfast. I was going to attempt to slip out of the house when Mrs Hemerton appeared in front of me. Today she looked extra... done up. Her hair was so big I was surprised that it was even possible, it was also powdered grey. In my opinion why would she want to go grey earlier than she had to.

"Elizabeth dear, where are you going?" She asked the question with an underlying saying; you are not leaving today. She stepped between the door and I, hands on hips.

"Just going for a walk...mother," I said hoping she'd just be like 'alrighty then, go ahead and leave.' No such luck. She grabbed my shoulder and lead me back up the stairs to my bedroom.

"I am afraid you will not be doing that this day. Your brother will arrive soon and the party will commence shortly after. You must begin to make yourself approvable to be around the nobility that will be attending." She said strictly and coldly. I stopped in my tracks.

"Wait, wait, wait. I'm not already approvable!?" I asked in awe. If I can barely walk now, I won't be able to move when I'm 'approvable.'

"Of course not, dear. Now I know with your recovering you do not remember much so you will only exchange pleasantries with the guest. I do not want the word spreading that my daughter is stupid," she said.

"Hey I am not stupid!" I exclaimed.

"A lady of your station does not raise her voice or contradict anyone!" Mrs Hemerton exclaimed, a vein popping out of her forehead,"Now go and get ready. I will send my best maid to assist you."

Hours and Hours later I was done. The dress was elegantly beaded and sewn patterns. It was blue, purple and green. Mrs Hemerton lectured me for thirty minutes about how proud I should be that there was purple on my dress. 'Only royals have purple' or 'it was very expensive, be sure to mention that' or 'no woman at the party can compare!' were some of the tidbits she said. I tried to convince them that I had no need for panniers or a corset to no avail. The corset was even tighter than before making my ribs ache, my breathing ragged, and my breasts nearly pop out of the dress. The panniers made my hips the size of several people put together. They powdered my face white with very red blush. The powders made my skin itch and burn. As soon as they left I would rub this powder made of who knows what off. They put a large and very heavy white wig over my netted hair. At the end of this torture session, I felt weighed down, suffocated, and embarrassed. I'm sure that this is where clowns had gotten their inspiration.

Mrs Hemerton and her maid looked pleased despite my discomfort. They left me despite my inability to do literally anything. I passed my time standing very still in the middle of my room playing on my phone. I knew that I wouldn't have wifi or a cellular connection, but I tried going on instagram anyways. It didn't just failed to load but crashed completely. Many of my apps did. So I was stuck with my camera, temple run and angry birds to amuse me. I took dozens of pictures and even a few videos for proof that I had been here, if I ever did get back. At my 237th round of temple round (yes I was counting) Eleanor finally came to escort me to the party.

Everyone was already waiting in the house. It didn't seem a single person with coloured hair or skin was there. White skin from powder, white powdered wigs, green dresses and red jackets. Eleanor had instructed me to make a grand entrance down the staircase, slow, smiling, and dignified. I nearly ruined my dramatic entrance as I looked upon the party of clowns. A little laugh escaped from my lips and I struggled to keep the rest in. The only thing that helped from exploding into a fit of giggles was that laughing hurt tremendously in this courset.