[The story is based on Anne Rice's Interview With The Vampire the AMC series]
During the 1870s and '80s, it gave rise to the Industrial Revolution which paved way to the concept of capitalism dominated by social elites: the aristocrats - who played...
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I HEARD THE BUSTLES of the crowd in the street. The busy chattering people, the passing automobiles, and the morning birds that wouldn't shut up. It all made me rise from my deep slumber.
I sat up from my soft bed - that seemed to be softer this time, then rubbed my drowsy eyes.
I had the most strangest dream ever. And I blamed it to the man I met in the park days ago. Why did this stranger's very existence seemed to haunt me even in my sleep? I shrugged the feeling off. It's probably only just a fleeting infatuation I had.
I moved from the bed, then stretched, but I abruptly stopped when I saw my surroundings.
Drapes of velvet hung loosely, wallpaper with intricate designs covered every corner, red carpet made from...olefin fiber? The magnificent wood work of the fireplace, the shining crystal chandelier above me.... This was not my apartment at all. My apartment was shit, and this was something else. It's a place of opulence.
The spacious room made me feel tiny and lost... and made me feel even poorer. All its gold, pearls, and marbles, and velvet tapestries were overwhelming.
Then I realized, what had happened wasn't a dream.
There was a standing mirror at the corner; I passed by it when I went to the door, but I stopped right there to look at myself. I was no longer wearing my shirt dirtied with mud and blood. Someone changed my clothes to a sleeveless satin white nightgown. The fabric was so thin, it's almost see-through, that every feminine detail of my body was noticeable.
Suddenly conscious, I hugged myself to cover. "What the fuck?"
Whoever dressed me definitely saw me naked... and it's either him or his maids. I hoped it's the maids. Also, to be brought in to his house was kind of showy. He could have just left me in my apartment - but no, he had to let me stay in one of his rooms filled with evidence of his wealth. He was unconsciously rubbing it on my face. But then again, he didn't know where I lived.
With my eyes judging the whole atmosphere of the wide bedchamber, I spotted a dress lying on a chaise lounge sofa. I took it in my hands. It was made of Georgette fabric, and it was smooth and silky to the touch. The dress was royal blue, with rhinestones that matched its color, embroidered around the bodice.
The well designed dress came with a letter, and when I unfolded the piece of paper, cursive writing of a seductive penmanship was revealed.
"For you, ma petite chérie."
I could clearly hear his voice through his letter, engulfing me with his deep tone. I shuddered.
I looked at the dress again. It had been a very very long time since I had worn a dress. I didn't know it then but I was smiling, and hugging the heavy fabric close to me.
I later left the room wearing the royal blue gown he gave or lend to me. And just what I had expected, the rest of his house matched the chamber I woke up from. Velvet, gold, marble, mahogany and brass designed the whole place. There were also books- numerous of them, resting on the towering shelves; half bodied Greek sculptures were standing in a stiff line in some corner; painted canvas of landscapes and portraits decorated the walls; and that damn huge chandelier again that seemed to occupy the rest of the ceiling.
