Hanna

Chapter One

She sat upon the throne of her despair with only a few who knew the hidden torture and sadness. Not that she had a bad life, her parents took care of her well enough; she never wanted expect for an occasional hug or greeting but she soon learned that her parents didn’t know she needed that or well, they just didn’t care. Anyways that was the past, she learned to deal with it and what she couldn’t deal with she hide.
No, to tell you the truth the reason she held such sadness and anger close to her heart was not because her parents forgot about her now and then, but because they were paying too much attention to her at that moment. Instead of going to Scotland and totally forgetting about her, they brought back something, something far more than just a normal gift, they brought her back a message from her future husband. “HUSBAND!!” Was her first response when the news came to her, “What in hell were they thinking, are they insane, are they stupid, are they dyeing? Did they get me a husband because they knew they were dyeing? No, yes which one and why do I need a husband. I’m fine ALL BY MYSELF!!”
The anger filled Hanna Leigh as she sat looking at her nanny, affectingly know as Connie pleading with her eyes and hoping that Connie would see the shouts for help and remove her from her untimely condition. Instead her “loyal” nanny was giving the world one of her famous smiles, which by the way angered Hanna even more than her newfound discovery. Her friend, her mother, her sister all sat within Connie and that…wretch had the ability to smile when her own chose for a husband was being ripped from her grasp and her parents who hardly knew her picked the man that she would forever be tired to, till deaths do they part. Ahh…that despicable scoundrel sat and watched as her life was ripped apart by idiots that her grandparents mistakenly created.
“Hanna…Hanna….HANNA!” Her concentration was disrupted by her mother’s horrible bellows.
“Yes, mother.” If her red face hadn’t revealed her anger then her voice surly did.
“I will ignore that tone, only because I know your position is quite new to you.” Before Hanna could comment on the statement her mother began again, “Your husband said he is very pleased to finally have a chance to meet you, we told him so much about you….”
“Get to the point Marcela.” Her father was quite abrupt which for him unusually; he was actually a fun-loving man and when he was sober paid quite a lot of attention to her, but sober sadly was a rare aspect of her father’s life.
“Fine, he said he would try to make time in his schedule to visit you.” Her mother repaid the abruptness with rudeness and slight slurring the words, just to aggravate her husband for he demanded the almost respect and intelligence from everyone around him.

Stars and galaxies passed without Hanna moving a muscle, every little thing had such a huge impact, the whistle of the wide made tears fall from her eyes. The shuffle of feet made Hanna fell her heart began to race. The sound of her mother made her want to vomit, not in disgust but in betrayal; how could the two people who created her leave her to some stranger or was he a stranger did they chose him long before her birth or shortly after, “How long have you had this arrangement!” Hanna demanded as she shoved the chair back and planted her fist on the old oak dinning table.
“What’d you meanin’ child?” The smile on Connie’s face faded while the temper in Hanna grew.
“How long have you been plotting to rid yourselves of me?”
“Oh, Hanna that’s not what we meant at all-we just want what’s best for you. After all you are seventeen; you should have a husband and children to keep you on your toes.” Her mother put such a horrible thing in the most pampered and exquisite package; that was her gift after all, to make Hanna understand why her parents couldn’t be home at important periods in her life. Now it was used to make her understand why they were destroying everything Hanna created; the wall of solitude was slowly being taken down.
“How can you do this, you hate me. I know you do, that’s why you’re never home, that’s why you insist in killing me slowly! You run off and return with the warning of a marriage, something you goons were probably plotting for years. I hate you and I wish hell upon every single one of one.” The cruse she set upon them slowly withered into horror as her father stood up slowly, his frown that reveled his anger sputtered a weak punishment as he stomped out of the room.
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The moon lit her room a pale blue with only thin lace curtains covering her window. The room itself was nothing to shake a stick; with the large bed in the center shoved against the north wall. A lace curtain very much like the one coving the window hung all around the bed from the canopy above. The wall was a light pinkish-blue that didn’t at all look girly, but very elegant which suited her mother, but Hanna preferred dark greens and blues. Her dresser was oak with hand made designs and a very masculine feel to it for it took up a little less than half of the south wall.
The room had a lot of Hanna in it, but also held a lot of her mother which on occasions soothed Hanna when her parents were on one of their trips, but at that very moment it would have pleased her to destroy everything that took her mother hours to create. Then again it would have pleased Hanna to never set eyes on her parents or even Connie again; God must have heard that last remark for as soon as she thought it, the traitor Connie came walking in.
“What do you want, to torture me some more?” Hatred traced every word that came from her mouth.
“Now girlie, don’t you go judgin’ your parents like that or even me. They just want you to be happy and their way is to get you a husband. Now you hold on Miss. Spitefire!” Connie yelled the last sentence when Hanna tried to cut in, “Maybe we went around it the wrong way, but your pa won’t be makin’ you marry anyone you don’t wish to marry, you know that. So why don’t you just meet the lad before you start hatin’ him or your parents. Maybe you’ll like the poor boy, from what you’re ma was sayin’ about him he seems to want to meet you, Sweet.” Connie referred to Hanna as Sweet, one of her childhood nicknames. The origin of the nickname was from her Grandmother Adella who kind of took the name tiny used for a huge man and in its stance used Sweet for Hanna, who happened to be anything but sweet; as a young child spoiled and stubborn was more of her calling than sweet.
“Well! I don’t wish to meet him.”
“You stubborn lass, you’re just like you’re pa! Stubborn as hell.” Connie’s hand went up to show she was not having no one interrupt her, “I was you’re pa’s nanny too and if he didn’t have his nose in the air half the time, somethin’ was wrong. He grew out of it, thank god, but you’re a little late. I keep prayin’ to Good Lord that you’ll brighten up like you’re old man!” With that last remark Connie left the room.
“Stubborn! The only stubbornness around here is my parents and you. Arrr…I hate it here!” Hanna only opened her mouth to talk back when Connie was safely out of hearing range, for she got a few beltings for speaking without thinking. “You’ll all see I’ll run away and nobody will be the wiser till the morning has come and gone,” for Connie would allow Hanna the privilege of sleeping in on certain days and hopefully tomorrow would be one of those certain day.