The Life She Was Given

by Ellen Marie Wiseman

In the end it was for the best. She didn’t have to explain and she didn’t have to lie. And now she was free of him for good.

But Mother worried she’d ruin whatever they were making, so she never let her do any of those things. After all, it was a sin to let good food go to waste.

But the lions wouldn’t be any better off than she was. If they tried running into the woods, someone would stop them. If they tried to fight back, someone would hurt them or shoot them.

She wanted to know if she was the only mixed-up person in the world who felt completely and utterly alone.

But what Mother didn’t know was that Julia planned on following the rules. Except this time, they were going to be her own.

So this is what it felt like to be hugged by another person. And maybe, just maybe, this was what it felt like to be loved.

More than anything, she wanted to go into the stall and comfort the elephant, to stroke its head and explain she understood what it felt like to be held prisoner, and to still love someone who hurt you. But she didn’t dare.

For the first time in her life, she felt loved and needed.

She climbed on a footstool to examine a set of six antique books with worn leather spines sitting between elephant-shaped bookends on the top shelf of the center bookcase.

Her mother had never looked at her that way, but Julia had studied enough interactions between mothers and daughters to recognize unconditional love when she saw it.

She liked to imagine her as a loving, affectionate woman who, like Julia, had learned to be gentle and kind as a result of what others had done to her.

In the meantime, the horses would be free to run in the fields, to play and jump and sleep on the grass, and chase away the ghosts of Blackwood Manor.