0ºC. Bleak weather and constant snow flurries.
I woke up gasping for air this morning. The events of last night are still lingering vividly in my mind. I did not have a chance to write them down yesterday as I usually do before going to bed, leaving me today with uneasy thoughts and unresolved feelings. I need to get my head wrapped around this issue as quick as possible or I fear that I will become a nuisance to my fellow companions.
For the first time since I have come to London and started going in all of these “unexpected adventures”, I feared for my life.
Last night’s episode left me wondering if I have what it takes to succeed in this new lifestyle that has been imposed to me as the Dean of The Institute for the Study of Aetherics, Magical Artefacts and Mystical Creatures…
My feelings ran wild…As that repulsive ogre clenched his fingers around me, I was flooded by an insane rage, driving me to struggle back. I fought back with all my might, trying to break free from his grasp (and that creature even dared to hit me!). I did not even stop when the pounding pain on my cheek worsened. But, gradually that feeling of rage turned into despair, and despair into numbness. I remember thinking I could barely breathe, that if I did not get enough air that would be the end of me. My hands and feet felt ice cold and my body indulged in a very strange state of numbness. I have never felt so scared.
And in a matter of seconds, with unwavering eyes and a killer shot precision Mr. McGill put an end to all of this unnecessary suffering. Not even batting an eyelash when the creature’s brains just exploded from the side of his head, whereas myself had barely succeeded on not turning that sight even fouler with my bile.
I fell on my heels as I dove into a trance of confusion, nausea and relief, not even able to act properly. I thought I was done for good. I had never seen someone die. I had never seen someone getting killed. My mind was travelling thousands of miles per second, not able to reach an end.
It comes as no surprise that everything just tipped from then onwards. After getting overwhelmed a considerably amount of times by Mr. Aurie’s “Cricket time!” as he calls it (I just pray I will not become blind after such frequent exposure), I tasted the cherry on top of the cake and … I am even too embarrassed to write it down, nevertheless I got stomped by a horse. I am just glad Queen Victoria’s eyes have trouble reaching such a forsaken part of London or my “Lady Like” reputation would definitely be revoked. It is already shameful and painful enough to carry these dreadful bruises. I did never care of the status of a Lady that much, however somethings are just inadmissible.
Fortunately, Marianne was there for me when I arrived home and commenced what I believe it was a nervous meltdown. Poor Marianne… it pained me more to see her distressed expression than my actual wounds. I did not have the courage to tell her how I got into such shameful state; it would just worry her even more. And by the way my sheets were arranged when I woke up this morning, I could tell she came to check on me during the night. My poor, sweet and loyal Marianne… I do not think I have seen her concerned like this ever since my mother passed away.
And this brings me to my initial thoughts…Will I, the last remaining Lady Windsor, be able to walk down gracefully the path of the sword? Can I become like my brothers and fight to keep the peace of others? Or can I become like Mr. McGill and kill another soul without a second thought? Or even, become free of social shackles like Mr.Auri?
I have come to realize it…
Dulce bellum inexpertis
- (War is sweet to those who have never fought).-