FELICITY

VIII

Every day for the past three weeks Timothy has come to visit me, sometimes we meet in the basement, other times under the tree where he drew a picture of me. I am becoming more and more comfortable around him, I thoroughly enjoy talking to him and kissing him. I even think about marriage sometimes and it makes me giddy.

I hear a knock coming from my window and I instantly smile because I know it is Timothy. I already put down the bars on the window once Madam left, to grant him easy access into the basement. He has a bouquet of flowers in his right hand and he is smiling sweetly at me, he pulls in the rest of his body and jumps into my room.

"They're lovely," I smile at him as I take in the lovely smell of the flowers.

"Only the best for my princess," he says lovingly. "I want to take you out today," he beams.

I widen my eyes. This is such a bold request, and it makes me extremely uncomfortable. Although I am nervous I do have to admit that I am also quite curious about the part of Timothy's life that he cannot bring to me. What does his home look like? His parents, his bedroom. . . everything. I want to see his world, I want to see the world.

"I've told my parents that there's a special girl I want them to meet," he says, playing with my fingers and looking into my eyes expectantly.

"You-you want me to meet your parents?" I remarked, I can feel my expression go blank.

"Of course," he smiles "I want to show you to my world, Felicity," he says with a few dramatic hand movements.

I think for a moment and I shut my eyes tight. "On one condition," I utter.

"Anything.''

"We have to be back before midnight," I warn, opening an eye to look at him.

He laughs and places a tender kiss on the back of my palms "Of course, Cinderella," he winks.

I feel my heart beat fast but this is a risk I am willing to take. He takes my hand and walks me to the window, I go out first and then he comes out right after me. I shut the window and stay on my knees for a while, hesitant, but in a swift move I get up and decide to listen to my heart. I want to do this.

We walk hand in hand, I move very slowly and he matches my pace. I look around to see that there aren't a lot of houses around here. But there are a lot of trees shooting out of the ground which is covered in beautiful green grass. Most of the houses I see are much taller and better looking than mine, it tells me that the inhabitants of those homes live a much fancier life than mine. 

I see beautiful women walk past me clothed in beautiful garments that lack crinkles or tears like mine. I look down at my dress and I am instantly ashamed of my appearance. My dress is a boring brown colour, it stops at my knees and I have paired it with white stockings. I must look plain in the eyes of other women. I want to stop walking, I want to turn around and run back into that dark room where no one can see or judge me, but I find myself moving further away from my haven into a world that I do not know how to live in.

We get to Timothy's vehicle and it is a funny-looking thing. It is much shorter than we are, and has a long nose. The sleek black colour makes me want to run my fingers across its surface, and I do. It is warm to the touch, probably from the sun. Looking at this car takes me back to a time when I was little; I remember looking at cars with my mother . . . Madam. I would 'ou' and 'ah' whenever I would look at fascinating ones in magazines. One day she told me that she would only allow me marry a man with a fine car and a large house. I wonder if she will approve of Timothy.