Hymn To My Soul

~ PROLOGUE ~

The night was crisp and cool with a soft breeze that traveled through the window of the small Southhampton hotel room. The whole room was draped in a blanket of darkness with the exception of a single candle aglow on the desk under the window. There within the small bedroom sat a lone girl, her long locks of blonde hair fell to her mid-back with waves within each strand. Her posture was bent as she tilted her head; her eyes trailing every stroke of her pen across the thick paper of a journal. Her expression was placid and dull, her blue eyes beginning to fill with tears after each word she wrote on the page. Her other hand gripped the edge of her white nightgown, her throat swelling from all the suppressed tears she had kept throughout the day. Finally, a tear dropped onto the paper, staining it with a wrinkle. Ignoring the pouring tears, she finished the entry and signed her name. Lydia Claire.

She dusted off the tears from the pages and gently closed the leather-bound book and placed the fountain pen on top of it before sliding it away. Her gaze lifted to the burning wick of the candle and the wax that dripped down the length of it before her eyes focused on the unknown distance outside her window. She felt it in her heart. The vacant darkness prevailed over her soul. It was almost as though she were trapped within a room of black, unable to find an opening as the walls closed in to squeeze her dry of her life. There was nothing left for her then. She wouldn't even exist.

She raised her hands to her face and brushed off the tears, calming herself down like she always did. Although she was an emotional spirit, she had great control over them. She had to. It wasn't a choice. She had learned to do it from a young age and became a master of it by the age of six. Her mother had condemned her to learn, telling her that a lady was never to cry in front of a man or a company of people. Emotions were for the private times alone, not for the public of the First Class society. So, she went with the words of her mother and kept everything that arose in her stomach down. That didn't change when the mention of a suitor entered the picture of her life.

She turned in the chair and focused on the stack of luggage that sat in the darkened corner of the room. A wilting rose sat on top, a token given to her earlier that day by her betrothed fiancé. He wasn't a romantic, but when he tried to be he bought her things or gave her things as some sort of display of affection. It always felt forced. Like he had to do it to appease her and win her over. It never changed her feelings toward him: hatred and vulgar distaste. She shook her head at the rose and stood.

As she paced she contemplated various thoughts within her head. What if she just left? Jumped through that window and ran? What would happen then? What would happen if she started over? She didn't know much about life without any money or anyone to care for her, but it had to be better than this. She wanted to just leave this all behind. She didn't care about the money or the jewelry or the fancy clothing or the fine meals. She would take a bread meal any day if that meant she could be free from all of this. She groaned as she paused. Her eyes focused on the stars that appeared out her window and caught a glimpse of a shooting star across the ebony sky. With a breath that escaped her, she glanced at the papers that sat on the desk. White Star Line RMS Titanic tickets. The grandest ocean liner yet. She closed her eyes and made a wish. I wish I may, I wish I might, to the first star I see tonight. Take my life and change it. Take this grandeur away, take this life away, take this prison from me, and change it. Give me something new. As her eyes blinked open, a star flickered brightly.

As a lonely tear trickled down her cheek and caressed her jaw before dripping to the floor, she breathed and blew the candle out. She moved, with her shoulders hung low, to the bed and settled within it, pulling the sheets to her neck. She stared at the luggage before glancing back at the papers on her desk. This was it. Her last trip to America before being married off. With one last sigh, she closed her eyes with her mind blank.

Suddenly, her mind filled with noises. She couldn't distinguish them. Dread filled her body but she couldn't move. She felt as if she needed to get out of this dark place as screams began to fill her ears from the distance. She felt cold but within a tank of water slowly rising around her. Still, she couldn't see anything but she could feel the chilling water creeping up her body until it reached her neck. The fear pervaded yet she couldn't wake up. She was trapped within the black void.