• A girl of 18 stands and looks herself in the mirror. Her long blond hair is in its traditional curls. Her blue eyes shimmer, not letting onto her inner self. She stands in a long white dress, fancy and beautiful, flaunting her good features. Her glasses have been replaced by contacts. A lady whom she doesn't know pops in and fusses with her hair. "Please M'lady, try to be happy 'or his lordship." she says as she places a wreath of heather on her head. The girl does not respond at all. She exits and takes her father's hand. "Try to make the best of it dear." he says quietly. The girl still does not respond. She walks down to the three sister hills, a light breeze starting to sway her dress to reveal her bare feet. Her blond hair sways in the breeze. In her hands is a bouquet of heather that is so fragrant it should be illegal. Her groom stands on the platform with the priest. She looks at the complete and utter stranger with dull and dead eyes. She does not want this to happen. She does not want to marry him.She has no choice though. They need her to be ready in case something happens to her cousin. She might need to bear an heir. She stands at the alter numb, not feeling anything at all. In her heart she is crying for someone, anyone to come and save her from her fate. No one does though and so she dully says the words that will bind them to each other forever. She does not want this. Her tears fill her eyes and she starts to cry. She does not make a sound though. Her silence is louder than anything. Her inner anguish is untold of. She had so many dreams. She wanted to own a restaurant, to become a writer, to be something. Now all her dreams are down the drain. All she can think is that this is a dream and please god let her wake up...Please...