The skies were an enchanting blue, the wind was calm, and all life of the small town seemed to shine intensely from the vine-enveloped house. The well-oiled gates stood wide open to embellish upon a visitor, a sense of good will and warm welcoming. The clean-cut grass was fortunately undisturbed by wandering feet and the trees offered shade in few areas of the large yard. Polished mahogany doors seemed to be alive in the spirit of this joyous occasion.
Mrs. Ava Havisham sat alone in her tidy bedroom, waiting in anticipation for the moment the organs begin to play the tune all women hope to hear during their lives. Her long, white-silk gown flowed airily over the recently dusted marble floor. Her clean, unblemished face, was covered by a lacy veil. She looked up from her chair into an ancient mirror and smiled for the first and last time in her life.
She thinks of the first day she and Compeyson met in a woebegone tavern upon a snow-dusted hill. The light within the penetrating darkness, covered with swelling clouds burdened with a new front of chilled precipitation. An elated young woman, early of her prime, caught the eye of a smart looking man nearly fifteen years her senior. She sidled towards her unwary prey with cunning swiftness and tumbled gracefully upon the splintering floor, cheeks glowing with fresh embarrassment.
Her mysterious gentleman swept down upon her with unanticipated speed and she was once again upon her satin-covered feet. Her face directed itself towards the scoured floor, the apprehension of connecting eyes with her rescuer building up an immense capacity within her chest. She slowly swayed to her right, confronting the fellow in earnest desire. A flash of purity befell her pale lips as she spoke words of praise to this warmhearted gentleman.
Ava never let herself slip from this perfect introduction. She would now be bound to his mind and body for eternity and more. She sighed contentedly at the thought of never being apart from her Prince Charming as long as she endured the hardships life brought upon her.
Ava snapped out of her reverie as the maid appeared in the doorway as the bearer of bad news, "Mrs. Havisham, I'm sorry....." Bells chimed 8:40 and never sang a melody of passing years for the rest of their days.. A satin slipper laid discarded but never forgotten upon the floor in a heedless rage. The scenic wedding room, once laden with cheerful candles, has since been extinguished. A whipped wedding cake, five tiers high, now lay decaying upon the satin tablecloth, entrapped within a demoralized feast of rats and insects. Deafening silence has replaced the cheerful chatter of ambitious guests and all time has since ceased to exist.
A decaying woman lays upon an unholy bed, weeping for her self-pity of ill-usage by her fiancé. All that is left of her is a slim frame and languishing skin. Her bodily spirit has disappeared into an ocean of pity and sorrow. Her face is now wrinkled and undefined as one's face would be when biting into something much too sour for one's taste.
The clocks are stopped, the curtains are drawn as to never let the light of happiness in again, and the rusty gates are locked for an eternal rest. Once a great estate of thriving beauty now lay in ruin like a fallen city after battle. The fire of passion now lifeless, will never burn again within the soggy estate of the Satis House.