Alice Fisher

“Good morning Madam” 

The servant girls said as they passed, smiling at me like I was with something on my head. Confused but flustered I said, “Thank you” moving for a better view of the sun. 

Standing on the patio, I couldn’t help but let my thoughts drift back to the day of my wedding to Samuel. “A horrible day, I must say” gently escaped her lip with an audible mumble 

The memory was as cold as the day itself—a sad, hollow event that lacked any semblance of joy or celebration. 

It was a day marked not by love or happiness but by obligation. The vows we exchanged felt more like a binding contract than a declaration of devotion. Samuel had barely looked at me, his gaze fixed on the thought of his woman who was far away in the city.

 I remember feeling like a stranger in my own life as if I were watching someone else’s tragedy unfold.

The guests had sensed it too—the unease, the tension. There were no warm smiles, nobody said congratulations to me, just a pervasive sense of resignation. 

They all knew what this marriage was—a transaction, a way for Samuel to settle his father’s debt, a debt I had inadvertently become a part of when Mr. Idris took me in as a child. 

Samuel had never forgiven me for that, for being the reason he was bound to a life he hadn’t chosen. And from that day forward, he made sure I felt his resentment in every possible way.

As I looked down at the servants below, busy with their morning routines, I wondered what they were saying about my return and what this meant for me.

But amidst these bleak memories, there was a softer recollection—one that brought a faint smile to my lips. It was the day I met Alice Fisher, with her black hair and beautiful teeth with an awful smell that day, a day that started with a ridiculous argument over a jar of sweets but ended with the kindling of a lifelong friendship.

It was a warm afternoon when I had been sent to the farmhouse to gather some supplies. The farmhouse was a place of solace for me, a haven away from the stifling atmosphere of the Idris household. As I approached, I spotted a girl about my age I was barely 12 years old, her black hair falling in a loose braid over her shoulder. She was sitting on the steps, a jar of sweets in her lap, her face alight with joy as she savored each piece.

“Those look delicious,” I remarked casually, hoping to strike up a conversation. After all, sweets were a rare luxury for me, and the sight of them made my mouth water.

The girl looked up, her blue eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed me. “They are,” she replied, a hint of defiance in her tone. “But they’re mine.”

I raised an eyebrow at her boldness. “I don’t recall you owning this farm,” I said, trying to keep the conversation light, though something about her attitude sparked a fire in me.

“Well, I was here first,” she shot back, her chin tilting up in challenge.

For a moment, we stood there in a silent gaze, while I figured if I should press her further, she was not willing to back down. Then, in a moment of childish impulse, I reached for the jar.

“Hey!” she yelped, her hand flying to grab mine. “I said they’re mine!”

Before I knew it, we were both tugging at the jar, our struggle escalating into a silly children's war. Sweets spilled onto the ground, bouncing across the dirt as we refused to let go. It was a ridiculous sight—two girls fighting over something so trivial, yet in that moment, it felt like the most important battle in the world.

Finally, the jar slipped from both our hands, shattering on the ground, its contents scattering everywhere. We stared at the mess in silence, our chests heaving from the exertion. Then, as if on cue, we both burst into laughter.

“That was stupid,” she said between giggles, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Very stupid,” I agreed, still catching my breath. “But at least we got a good laugh out of it.”

She extended her hand to me, her smile warm and inviting. “I’m Alice Fisher.”

“Anna Idris,” I replied, shaking her hand. From that moment on, I knew I had found a friend in Alice. She was everything I wasn’t—bold, confident, and unafraid to speak her mind. She lived her life with a freedom I could only dream of, and yet, she never made me feel like less for the constraints I lived under. She understood them in a way that made me feel less alone.

Whenever I could, I would escape to the farmhouse to spend time with Alice. We would talk for hours, our conversations ranging from silly stories to deep, heartfelt confessions. Alice became my confidante, the one person who saw me for who I was, beyond the obligations and the expectations that weighed me down.

One afternoon, as we lay in the field watching the clouds drift by, Alice turned to me with a serious look in her eyes. “I don’t understand why you stay with him,” she said softly. “Samuel, I mean. He’s so awful to you, Anna.”

I sighed, the familiar weight of my circumstances settling over me like a heavy blanket. “It’s complicated, Alice. It’s not just about Samuel. It’s about Mr. Idris and everything he did for me. I owe him my life.”

Alice rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to look at me more closely. “But that doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your happiness. You deserve more than this, Anna. You deserve to be loved.” Alice was a free bird I always said to myself

Her words struck a chord deep within me, one that resonated with a truth I had been too afraid to acknowledge. She was right, of course. I knew it, but the thought of leaving, of breaking free from the chains that bound me to this life, seemed impossible. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing I had to jump but terrified of the fall.

But in those moments with Alice, I felt a glimmer of hope. She was my lifeline, the one who kept me grounded when the darkness threatened to swallow me whole. With her by my side, I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out.

As I stood on the patio, watching the servants go about their tasks, I clung to that hope. I didn’t know what the future held or how I got here but I was finally home and that was all that mattered to me at this point.

  Just as I was about to be carried away by my thoughts someone walked in slightly say " Anna where are you?"