Field of Daisies

Chapter 1

I should have kept my mouth shut. And yet, I didn't.

"Where did you get that tongue?" My mistress questions me from her seat at the breakfast table, her jaw set and eyes narrowed.

"I, uh..." I start before I can think of an excuse. If she wasn't convinced before, this hesitation will be sure to give me away. I can't turn my thoughts into an excuse, let alone real words.

Magnolia watches our standoff in a dazed confusion. I think I see a bit of fear behind her batting eyes, but I don't have time to study her expression. Some help she'll be. She hasn't missed a day of pills yet—despite my best efforts—allowing her mind to remain clouded. While I, on the other hand, haven't taken mine in weeks. Does that make this karma?

The glimpse of something under Magnolia's polished mask makes me believe there is still some sense of the old her there, the one who was capable of real emotions. If only she was strong enough to recognize the help I am now in need of.

"Daisy, dear," my mistress starts, without the usual sweet undertones to her voice. She grips my wrist while she speaks, making sure to dig her nails into my skin. "You're lucky I am so kind as to give you a chance to correct this little slip-up of yours. After all these years, I truly expected better from you. You must remember your manners, lest you want to have the Forces called on you for disobedience. I can't imagine a new mistress would be as sparing as me, let alone after a retraining program." She turns her attention, "Magnolia, darling, go fetch Daisy her compact." I wonder how much my mistress knows about the pills.

She turns again, this time to the boys, "Ash and Linden, hold her while we wait." The corners of her mouth turn up as she recites her command, further narrowing her eyes. Before I can move my feet, I'm held on both sides by strong hands—there's a reason the guys get renamed after trees. She must know enough to make the use of restraints important. I wish I could ask... I wish I could move...

I know I won't be able to escape their grips, so I bide my time and wait, focusing on relaxing my face and slowing down my breathing. Magnolia brings my compact down from our room, which my mistress gladly snatches before it can be offered to me. At least I was smart enough to flush the pills I never took, leaving no physical evidence of my deviance. Then again, there's still one missing from today, which could raise further questions. Unless she thinks they're a day-by-day thing—I don't think they are.

"Open," I'm directed as my mistress gets up to face me, though she does have to raise her head to meet my eyes. I do as I'm told, resisting bending down so as to not seem condescending. A pill is forced into my mouth and she waits for me to ingest it. I push the pill under my tongue and prepare to pretend to force it down.

Then she continues, "Chew it, dear. I want to hear the crunch." Her enunciation makes me shudder. There's no good way around this. I do as I'm told and hope I can get out of the house before it begins to take away my thoughts again.

I expect my obedience to be rewarded by release, which is not the case. Instead, my mistress leaves the room and returns a minute later with a shot glass filled with a thick green liquid. I bite my tongue before I say something about how early it is for a drink or the vile color of the liquid. I'm used to green smoothies, but everything in me says this is not simply tinted by kale.

"Now take this," she says, holding out the shot. She nods to Linden on my right, signaling that I may have my arm back to accept the glass. I focus on keeping my hand steady as I accept and breathe through my mouth in case I feel the need to gag. I don't know what I'm about to ingest, but I can't imagine it tastes any better than it looks. As gracefully as I can, I take a big sip of the shot. Is it possible for the taste to be described as the color green? And why do I get the feeling I've drank this before.