Miranda Gostynski

A Sign of Wisdom

Tears soaked her pillow and stung her skin as she asked herself, quietly, “Why do I even bother?” Margaux was weary and frustrated for finding herself in this situation time and time again. Broken and abandoned once again. “I blame my mother” she said, as she stood on her feet and began to wipe the tears away. “Why is it so hard to love me?” she whimpered to herself. It had been three weeks since her estranged fiancé had any contact with her. He was having second thoughts about the wedding that would have been 6 weeks away. Her face was swollen and red as she walked towards the bathroom to wash away the evidence of her sorrow. The old floorboards creaked beneath her feet with each step she took. Margaux hated the house at night and always felt that something was watching her. She hated it even more now that she was left there alone. It was almost as if something had its eyes glued to her every time she began to walk down that long, dark hallway. The architecture of the old farmhouse indicated that it may have been erected sometime during the early 19th century. Over 200 years of faded memories and forgotten people who once lived there. Margaux hated living in New Jersey and she dreamt about the day she would finally escape and find herself in someplace that she actually belongs. “Only 3 more months until the lease is up” she said, “then I can get the hell out of this place.” Margaux made her way back to her bedroom and pulled the blankets over her head. It was always difficult for her to fall asleep at night in this place, but she was so depleted from sobbing that she was asleep within minutes.