InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "WHAT??"

Millie sat on the porch of her cottage, the rhythmic patter of rain against the roof creating a soft, almost hypnotic sound. The once golden fields of Blackmeadow Grange were now drenched, the earth soaking up the downpour while droplets clung to the tall grasses, shimmering in the dull, gray light. It was a different kind of quiet today - not the warm, golden stillness of sunset, but the hushed, heavy silence that came with rain. A quiet that seemed to match the weight sitting on her chest.

Her eyes traced the outline of the barn in the distance, its weathered wood dark and slick from the rain. The Grange, a symbol of everything her family had built, stood strong against the storm. It always had. Her father's pride, her mother's gentle reverence, E.J.'s steady hand in the business - it was their legacy, her legacy now. But as the rain dripped off the edge of the porch, pooling on the ground, Millie wondered if she truly belonged to it, or if it had claimed her without question.

Lily, the free spirit, could come and go as she pleased, but Millie had always known she would stay. The farm was in her blood, the land and its rhythms woven into her very being. And yet, sitting here in the rain, with the weight of expectation pressing down on her, she couldn't help but wonder - was this her choice? Or simply the path that had been laid out for her.

Her fingers tugged absentmindedly at the hem of her sweater, the soft fabric a small comfort against the chill in the air. No one had ever demanded she stay. No one had outright told her that the Grange would be partly hers to carry forward. But the unspoken expectations were always there, like the rain now falling around her - steady, constant, inescapable.

She sighed, watching the droplets cascade off the roof, merging into the growing puddles on the ground. Was she truly living, or just surviving under the weight of it all?

Every decision she made felt like a tightrope walk between tradition and progress. Her work as the agrotourism coordinator had breathed new life into the farm, bringing in visitors, ensuring its sustainability. She had gotten the Grange to start blooming in ways it hadn't before. But was it enough? Was she enough? Or was she simply surviving under the shadow of the Hartwell legacy, her life dictated by a history she hadn't chosen for herself?

The rain fell harder now, the sky a deep, moody gray, and Millie closed her eyes, letting the cool mist brush her face. There was a flicker of something - an idea, a question she hadn't allowed herself to fully consider before. What if she wanted something different? What if the life she had here, the life shaped by her family's expectations, wasn't the one she truly wanted?

Could she ever step away? And if she did, who would she be?

The thought lingered in the rain-soaked air, heavy and unspoken. For now, the Grange was her world, her anchor. But as the rain continued to fall, drenching the fields and washing the earth clean, Millie couldn't help but wonder.

Was she really living, or just surviving?

And how long could she weather the storm of expectations before she found out? © tessisamess