Two Worlds Apart

Chapter 3

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HER LIFE, Amara was thankful for the house she lived in. Thankful for her room being on the second floor. Thankful that the conversation between her and Elias got muffled up by the sounds made by the old wood of the house, mixed in with the howling of neighbourhood dogs. Thankful that the Thompsons' newborn wept at the crack of dawn. Her noise got cancelled out due to the rest of the world. She was thankful for the monsters that haunt kids' dreams; of things that go bump in the night. She realised, while leaning against her bedroom window, knees bent to her chest, arms cradling them while her head hung low -- how loud sounds truly were. She could hear precisely when the autumn leaves crunched beneath Elias' feet as he finally went home; could hear the metal gate slowly, creak open - Elias bolting it shut behind him as he walked away. The loud click rang in her ears like a chorus of a thousand nymphs singing in her ears.

She didn't know why she stayed there, leaning against the door - her feet refused to move.

She found comfort in knowing that he was there with her. And as she gazed at the grey ribbon tied to her wrist, the feeling rushed through her in great waves, flooding her heart with love and warmth. The chorus of nymphs now serenading her with strength.

Getting back on her feet, her hands twisted behind her back, holding onto the flailing edges of the lace. She tugged, her breath caught in her throat as she fought to swallow her silent intakes of breath while the corset tightened around her body: squeezing her sides; opening her wounds, she could feel it staining the cloth wrapped around her - soiling all of Elias' hard work.

Twice, thrice, she pulled. Bending over and straightening back up to make sure the corset stayed in place. Perfectly. Snug around her body.

Numbness crept over her spine. She now stood hunched over, one arm extended out to open the door she was leaning on, the other clasped onto her chest. Her heart pulsed hidden beneath layers of skin, protected by a fatty layer underneath and her ribs, pushed up by her lungs. It palpitated beneath her hand, desperately trying to pump blood through her body, to supply her with the oxygen needed -- a task made difficult as the corset tightened around her, with each passing second.

She wobbled back into her room, stumbling like a drunk and wore the dress from last night. Her breasts bulged out from the deep plunge that ran down the middle of the dress's halter top. (It didn't help that the corset pushed her chest together uncomfortably, bruising the sides). Her neck itched as she tightened the clasp which would hold the dress in place. Her hands felt heavy - weighed down by its train. She didn't think it possible but the rubies adorning the dress pricked her palm as she left the room - careful not to dirty the gown - closing the door behind her with her feet.

Another reason she was thankful for being a floor above her parents was that it allowed her to listen in on there every moment. She could always pinpoint where they were, and at times what they were doing -- unless they were in their rooms. That was the only reason, she felt safe enough to walk down the steps to get her shoes before greeting them.

Mother's probably out and waiting for father at the station.

Amara had enough time to get the house ready, she already looked as decent as she possibly could be.

Bending proved to be a difficult task, as it always was with the whale-bone corset digging into her skin, and unlike Elias, her clothes weren't flexible - just like its owner.

She put her shoes on in a hurry, and ran amok the house, making sure that everything was perfect - spotless - and as it should be before her parents' entry.

She stopped in the drawing-room.

Standing in the archway of the door leading to it, she gazed at her reflection in the long, wardrobe-sized mirror. She didn't recognise herself. Her hands cautiously travelled the length of her body. From the curve of the cleavage drawn on her chest - a touch so gentle, for she feared anything more and she would be hurt - down her now flat stomach. Corsets were miraculous. It sucked all her fat in -- she couldn't even see the pouch under.