Black Rose

Fresh pancakes

I helped Gwen set the table, pulling out knives, forks, and a handful of spreads and syrups for the pancakes. I was starving by the time breakfast was ready, and was eager to finally eat something without Blake watching me.

The pancakes were heaped on my plate, fresh off the stove. Little pieces of chocolate were melting inside them, and steam was rising from the top. They looked delicious.

I glanced up as Gwen sat down, and Jackson started eating his pancakes, not even bothering with toppings.

Gwen looked up and threw me a smile. I forced a smile back then looked down at my plate.

I gently picked up my knife and fork and cut away a small bite. I told myself I had to eat and popped the piece into my mouth. It tasted amazing, but I also felt an uneasiness in my chest, a feeling that I didn't like.

I cut away another piece and ate it. It tasted less and less delicious, and more and more like sweet mush

It took all of my willpower to take a third bite.

I dropped my cutlery and pushed away my plate, clearing my throat. "Where is the nearest bathroom?" I asked, and I couldn't help the shake in my voice.

Gwen frowned at me, glancing down at my plate. "It's just down the hall. Across from Jackson's room."

I stood, feeling weirdly spaced out, my skull pounding, and my chest getting tighter and tighter. I stumbled away from the table, feeling overwhelmed.

Somehow I made it to the bathroom and shut the door behind me before I broke down crying, covering my mouth with my hand so Gwen and Jackson couldn't hear my sobs.

I didn't have the strength to fight it, I just let the pain wash over.

Fuck, what is going on? How has Blake gotten in my head like this?

I clenched my eyes shut and tried to ignore them all. Oh god, I thought, why am I so fucked up?

Then I heard a knock on the door behind me, and Gwen's voice, calm and collected. "Ophelia, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I tried to respond, but my shaking voice was telling enough of my lie.

Gwen was silent for a moment before speaking again. "Can you let me in?"

I hesitated, but eventually pushed myself away from the door and opened it, wiping away at my tears. "I'm sorry, I just–"

But before I could finish my sentence, she was wrapping me in her arms, embracing me without a second thought.

"It's okay. You're alright, Ophelia." She muttered.

I was taken aback, unsure of how to respond to her kindness. The surprise helped, though, because it forced me to stop crying. Gwen obviously noticed my discomfort because she hastily pulled back and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to help you." She muttered.

I bit my lip. "It's okay. I just- I wasn't expecting it. That's all."

She looked away sheepishly, then glanced back at me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. "I'd rather not."

She nodded awkwardly. "Alright. Well, I better get back to Jackson. Are you alright?"

I nodded silently. "You go. I'll be out in a minute."

She looked like she wanted to say more then shook her head and left. I took a shaky breath and shuffled towards the mirror.

The lump rose in my throat once more as I stared at my reflection. I looked the same way I always had, if a little more gaunt.

So why did I feel so disgusting inside?

It was Jackson's giggles echoing down the hall that pulled me out of my trance. I let out a small sigh, splashed my face with a little bit of water, and wandered back out to the table.

I cleared my throat and looked across at Jackson. "So, how old are you, Jackson?"

He didn't bother pausing in between mouthfuls, just gobbled out "Four," the word muffled by pancakes.

Gwen smiled warmly at him. "My baby boy, you shouldn't talk with your mouth full. Where are your manners?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I can't help it. Pancakes are my favourite."

Gwen chuckled and looked back across at me. "Pancakes are a treat around here. We mostly have healthy, savoury food for breakfast. Blake's rule. My theory is that it's the Dutch in him."

I frowned, surprised. "Dutch?"

Gwen nodded, smiling as she cut away some of her own stack of pancakes. "Blake's mum is from the Netherlands. But whenever she visits, she spoils us with Dutch cheeses and treats. Doesn't she, Jackson?"

He nodded, grinning. This time, he swallowed his mouthful before speaking. "My favourite is the windmill speckles!"

"What?" I said, confused, looking back at Gwen.

She smiled. "He means speculaas. They're a spiced cookie, kind of like a ginger Christmas cookie. They're usually shaped like a windmill."

Jackson nodded enthusiastically. "They're so yummy. Can I have your pancakes?"

I was taken aback. He'd already finished his plate, and, in his defence, I wasn't eating mine.

Gwen tutted. "Jackson, that's Ophelia's, don't be rude."

He frowned at her. "But she's doesn't want them, and I do."

Gwen shook her head and opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. "No, you're right Jackson. It's not that they're not delicious, I'm just not too hungry, so you can have them."

Gwen frowned worriedly. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat and pushing the plate towards Jackson. He took it happily and continued eating. Gwen sighed. "Don't eat to quickly, Jackie, you'll make yourself sick."

He huffed. "Don't call me that."

Gwen chuckled, standing up and picking up the used plates. "Alright, Jackson. Finish that and bring your plate to the kitchen, then you can watch some TV in the theatre. Ophelia, do you mind helping me with the dishes?"

I nodded, not in the least bit surprised this house had a theatre. If I weren't trapped there, it would almost be my dream home.

But I was trapped, so this house was my prison.

I followed Gwen into the kitchen and watched as she flicked the tap on in the sink and added dish soap. She then turned to one of the cupboards and pulled out a dry tea towel.

"You dry, I'll wash up." She said, throwing me the towel.

I nodded numbly and stood by the sink, silent, trying to work out what to say. After a minute, there was a clanging sound and Jackson brought a half-finished plate of pancakes into the kitchen.

"I'm too full Mum, can I go watch tv now?" He said. Gwen nodded, taking the plate off him and scraping the leftovers into the trash.

"Just don't mess up the cushions. You know daddy doesn't like that." She said, and Jackson happily nodded and skipped off, back down the corridor towards his room, obviously heading to the theatre.

Gwen sighed, stopping the water and beginning to wash the plates. I took a shaky breath.

"Why have you been lying to me?"

Her hands went still. 

Here we go.