1950. A time where men have the complete upperhand. Women are at the bottom of the social ladder, expected to cook and clean and care for the men. Studying was forbidden, as was reading and writing. Women knew their place. The man was the dominator of every household. Of course, not in an abusve way, for the most part. Men were just more powerful, more respected. 

Elizabeth smiled, a practised smile that was reserved for the outside world. She nodded in greeting to those she passed, her brown locks flowing around her beautiful porcelain face gracefully. She grabbed a book from the cart, only to have it taken away.

"The women's books are on the over here."

"I know," she responded. 

"Then why are you not over here?" The seller looked at her, curious and slightly angry.

"It's..."

"Try this," he said gruffly handing over a smaller book. "A picture book. Women love these."

"Its, uh, for my father?" 

"Then why didn't you just say that in the first place?" He held out a hand, collecting the money Elizabeth handed off to him.

She sighed, clutching the book tightly to her. The lies were getting better, her collection of books growing more and more each day. She was just worried that surrounding neighbors would grow suspicious of the constant closing of the blinds and windows each night around seven. 

Burt would always tell her, "Lock the doors, I'll get the windows!" and they would go into fits of giggles, breaking laws galore that could result in horrible consequences should they be caught. 

"But the neighbors?" She would ask, her voice giddy and a bit more high pitched than usual.

"What they don't know won't hurt 'em, kiddo."

Elizabeth nodded, taking a seat at the table, the soft glow from the nearby candle illuminating the room just enough to see the words on the page. 

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It happend a few days later. Tears brimmed to Elizabeth's beautiful aqua-blue eyes, turning them poofy and red. She sniffled as a couple women from two or so homes down went through their belongings, throwing all of Burt's things out. It had all been decideded, Elizabeth having no say in any of it. Now that Burt had passed, she would go live with another family, one of the three women helping with the cleaning, and be forced to live like an actual woman. No more studying sessions late at night. No more knowledge to be learned. 

"I'll be here in three hours to see you to your new home," one of the women had spoken up. Elizabeth just nodded silently, the words not even processing in her brain. She couldn't even tell you which woman had spoken the words, had she been ask. There was one thing on her mind, and that was her Papa. 

The door had shut and the footsteps had slowly gotten quieter, farther away. It was then that she stood, her hand outlining the books that were now laying out. She sniffled, going to the room that was once inhabited by Burt. She looked around for what would be the last time, taking it all in. 

When Elizabeth spotted the small knife laying on the dresser, an idea struck her. Who said the studying had to truly end? No one had to know. She was practically invisible in the town, anyway, as many women were. No one would even notice.  

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It was ten minutes after midnight when she had sneaked out, away from traditions and the truth. Carriages wouldn't be searching for travelers looking for a new start or for those continuing with a new chapter of their lives for at least six more hours, right at the crack of dawn. 

Elizabeth sat the single case she had down, flopping down on top of it (there was no way she was going to let her clothes get stained and dirty; what is she, crazy?). She looked upward, into the stars, searching. For what, however, she herself did not know. Hope? Strength to follow through with her plan? 

May the light

Of this flickering candle

Illuminate the night

The way your spirit

Illuminates my soul. 

She closed her eyes, reveling in the cool breeze that began to blow. The tears that had been threatening to fall all day finally fell, the drop of bittersweet salt water rolling down the beautiful silky smooth skin of the young woman.

Papa, can you hear me?

Papa, can you see me?

Papa can you find me in the night?

Papa, are you near me?

Papa, can you hear me?

Papa can you help me not be frightened?

The  words flowed from her mouth, filling the air with a beautiful yet broken melody. She re-opened her eyes, red and slightly swollen once more. The stars reflected in the blue orbs, making them shine just a little bit brighter.

Looking at the skies 

I seem to see a million eyes!

Which ones are yours?

Where are you now that yesterday has come and gone

And closed it's doors?

Deciding to give it a rest and get at least a little bit of sleep before setting off on a who knows how long journey, Elizabeth made a small camp for the night. 

I remember everything you taught me,

Every book I've ever read.

Can all the words in all the books

Help me to face what lies ahead?

The trees are so much taller,

And I feel so much smaller;

The moon is twice as lonely

And the stars are half as bright. 

Papa, how I love you.

Papa, how I need you.

Papa, how I miss you

Kissing me good night.