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Our Beautiful Fantastic

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Our Beautiful Fantastic


An Unremarkable Cottage



Her cottage was small and tidy, nestled between two larger Georgian style homes and tucked away in some nameless London suburb where flora and fauna thrived and everything seemed possible.

Sybil Crawley, and all that concerned her, had somehow cultivated an inherent neatness ever since she was a little girl. Her obsession with order ranged from the way her billowing shirts were meticulously ironed, to how she insisted upon serving her food...always pickled and presented in strict rows and never ever ever touching the plates edges.

Many of the children she had grown up with (Larry Grey, for instance) had once teased her mercilessly for her quirky eccentricities. However, Sybil had always been rather upbeat and accepting of herself and of what her mother oftentimes referred to affectionately as her many 'Sybil-isms'.

All in all, there were only three things about Sybil that remained eternally wild.

These three exceptions went against her greatest efforts for order; her untameable shoulder length curls, her horrendously overgrown garden and her vivid imagination.

Sybil was going to write and illustrate a book one day. She was determined of it!

"Today, I'm going to make a difference", the twenty six year old brunette said determinedly, eyeing herself in the mirror of the vanity opposite her bed.

It had been her daily mantra since, well...since forever.

Outside Sybil's small and unremarkable cottage was an equally unremarkable English morning.

The clouds were grey and the streets were doused in a greasy layer of rainwater, it was the perfect weather for writing. She could almost hear the comforting 'clickity-click' of her old Remington typewriter.

Sybil rose, as she always did, at precisely two and half minutes past eight.

Momentarily (for she could never look at it for much longer), Sybil glanced through the pristine lace curtains of her bedroom window to the disaster that had become her back garden.

Her rosy complexion drained at the sight.

Had those filthy weeds and nettles always been growing THAT close to the otherwise spotless window pane all this time!

Even though Sybil knew deep down that her reaction was melodramatic and more than a little bit silly, her heart picked up it's pace at the thought of those ghastly brambles growing closer and closer to her while she lay asleep in bed-completely oblivious to their ongoing invasion.

Her palms grew sweaty...'Horrid things.'

It was the picture of nature's personal anarchy, as though Sybil had let grow her very own Dante-esque hell surrounding her home.

The knee high grass, the ferocious armies of brown prickly briars, the muddy earth and the wild flowers that seemed to crack through the old concrete veranda in the most inopportune of places.

The plants' faces stretched up in search of whatever dregs of sunlight they could scavenge.

The sight reminded Sybil of the untameable wilderness that had surrounded Rapunzel's tower in the fairy-tales that her older sister Mary had read to her every night when she was had been one of the very few stories that she had never warmed to growing up.

The thought of all that wilderness and all that chaos had never failed to fill her with dread.

Sybil didn't know where it came from-her fear that is. The bizarre phobia had always been an integral part of her. (It could probably be classified as another of her many Sybil-isms.)

Ever since she could remember, Sybil had always had a paralysing fear of flora and fauna.

Even looking at them made her blood run cold.

Their knife-like briars and too perfect petals brought her back to a memory that she couldn't quite grasp at anymore. It's undefined edges had a certain hazy quality, like an old film that had been badly damaged. It's contents were always just beyond her reach.

Sybil knew it had something to do with the grounds at Downton (that was one of the many reasons why she didn't go there anymore).

Irritably, the aspiring writer forced her thoughts to change direction and instead purposefully decided to focus on getting ready for work.

After all, that memory-whatever it was- was something that she would rather not dwell upon anyway.

Yes, I know I shouldn't be starting ANOTHER multichapter before I have finished my other one but I couldn't resist.

This is based off of 'This Beautiful Fantastic', it's a really lovely film starring Jessica Brown Findlay, Tom Wilkinson, Andrew Scott and Jeremy Irvine. I would definitely recommend it!

Let me know what you think and if you want me to continue this or just focus on my Victorian AU 'I'll Be Out There Somewhere'. I may have to alternate between working on them, so let me know what you think.

Anyways, I hope you all had a lovely weekend and I hope you have a great week.

Thanking you,