Bella

Part One

The sun has risen again. I get dressed in my morning attire and walk downstairs. I have to keep a lookout. My one sister can really freak me out at times and I am sure that she is working with step-mother. With her constant hiding and lurking presence I have no doubt in my mind about it. My second sister on the other hand always has this weird look on her face whenever I am around. She tends to demand the most basic of tasks for me. It has gone on for so long that I became the house's unofficial maid. I do not refuse in fear of meeting the same fate as my father, and I think she knows it.

This used to be my father's house before he died, now it belongs to my step-mother. Why did he not leave anything to his daughters? I question this almost everyday, but I am reminded of the answer every time I look at her. She poisoned him. She had to in order to obtain his wealth, why else would he have gotten so sick. It only makes sense.

I walk past her as I head toward the kitchen, I am expressionless. I cannot let her know. I start the kettle and lay out a tray in order to bring breakfast into the dining room. I check all of the cupboards as I do every morning in search of the sugar and bread to toast. After a few minutes the toaster goes off and I cover the bread in jam. I set three cups, three plates, and the teapot onto the tray and enter the dining room. Step-mother and my sisters are already sitting at the table, waiting. Our step-mother is reading the paper while one of my sisters, Linda, is attempting a crossword. The other sister, Margareta, is staring at me. Even while seated it seems as if she is looking down at me. I set the tray down and step-mother speaks.

"Will you be joining us for breakfast this morning?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you always set out so many cups?"

"F- for all of you..."

"Ridiculous! It is not like everything gets eaten anyway. Well if you insist on making breakfast every morning at least know who you are serving."

I ignore her condescending tone and walk back towards the kitchen. Why must I watch them eat when I am perfectly content spending breakfast up in my room, looking out my window, listening. I hear a knock on the door instead and go to open it. Margareta is standing there holding several evening gowns.

"Iron these will you dear?"

It felt more like a demand than a request. I would not have refused either way, in fear that step-mother might lash out. I take the gowns from her hands.

"Of course."

"Oh, and when you are finished, mother wants to see you in the study."

She leaves and I slowly head to the laundry room, wanting to postpone whatever it is that she wants to talk to me about. I finish ironing almost too quickly and hang the gown I believe to be Linda's in her room and the rest back on Margareta's dresser. I hesitantly start towards the study, my finger tracing the walls as I walk past them. I knock three times then enter. Step-mother is sitting at the desk and looks straight at me, her mouth almost at a smirk.

"You w- wanted to speak to m- me?"

"I received a rather interesting letter in the mail today."

"I- I do not understand."

"It is an invitation to a ball being held this weekend. I called you here in order to ask if you would like to attend along with the rest of us."

"Me? Are you sure?'

"Well it would certainly look bad if one of my daughters were to stay at home by herself now would it?"

"Y- yes, of course. I would, I would be honored to attend."

I quickly say my goodbyes and rush upstairs, trying to suppress my smile. It has been so long since I last left this house. This could finally be my opportunity to change my life. To leave.

     I walk into the room and on the nightstand sits a plate with one piece of jam covered toast.