“Keep going, you’re doing it” the little voice encouraged her. Miss Havisham stared at the long table, laid with dusty gilded plates, and at the decrepit cake at its center. With shaking hands she lifted the cake board and carried the whole crumbling pile out to the cess pit. As she threw it down, a psychic burden was lifted from her shoulders. This is working! Miss Havisham realized.
Now encouraged, she set about stripping the table of its plates and linens. Vermin scurried about and for a brief moment she remembered to be horrified by them. She’d been numb to their grotesqueness for so long, she’d forgotten what revulsion felt like. What a strange sensation to pursue on the way to happiness. Once the table laid bare, Miss Havisham scoured its surface with hot soapy water.
By the time she was finished exorcising the wedding feast, Miss Havisham’s gown was soaked and sopping. The fine silks and lace clung to her like evil river sprites trying to drag her down into a watery grave. She felt a pang of despair and nearly cried out from the pain of it. Nothing had hurt this much in all her years of quiet decay.
“You’re almost done,” the voice promised. Taking a deep breath to fortify her resolve, Miss Havisham marched up the grand staircase of Satis House and found her bath. She filled it high with hot water and soap as she prepared herself for what came next. Miss Havisham removed her wedding gown and as she did so she cried, and as she cried she healed.
She rose from her bath a new woman. No longer the witch of the place or a woman in white. Miss Havisham was now the author of her own destiny, an independent woman of means who would not again be deceived by the mere appearance of gentlemanly behavior. She was older, but not old. Wiser but not wizened. She was neither the naive bride nor the derelict crone. She was simply Miss Havisham, and the next chapter in her life would be a better one.
As she made travel arrangements to tour the continent with Estella and begin their new, more joyous life together, Miss Havisham whispered her gratitude to the voice that had guided and helped her. “I might never have cast him out without your assistance. Who are you?” The voice merrily laughed. “I am the part of you that did not die, that never wanted to. I’m the one who needed your help evicting a false fate you believed in.”