Masquerade

The day I came to him was a day I'll never forget.

I had been beaten till I lost consciousness, and when I woke up some time later, I was in a wooden box of some sort. I could feel every bump in the dirt road, and with each divot the cart went in my body banged against the walls of the crate.

At that point I had already given up hope in making it out of the situation alive. I had been sold by my horrible brother-in-law who didn't like the fact that my sister had promised our mother on her death bed she would take care of me until I came of age. While my sister took her biannual journey to our uncle's estate, Keaton had banged on my door demanding I wait on him hand and foot.

"Don't forget it's because of my generous good nature that I allow you to live here" he sneered at me when I opened my door and asked him to repeat himself. I was stunned, left standing in my open doorway with a shocked expression on my face as I watched him saunter off down the hall.

It took me a minute to remember how to function and when I remembered to breathe normally and blink, I slowly turned and quietly shut myself in my room. (Generous good nature?) Please. Noelle was the reason I was living there. Not that I was particularly thrilled to be living with my sister and her husband that I certainly did not care for at all. No, I wanted to leave, find my own husband. I felt oppressed and confined at home, constantly running into random rooms whenever I saw Keaton walking in my direction.

There was no peace from his harsh, stinging words and sneers and smirks. Noelle seemed to be oblivious to it all, sitting through dinner with a smile plastered on her face, her hand on top of the table with his hand intertwined. And every few minutes or so she would look over at him while he was doing some trivial thing like eating or guzzling wine and she would beam at him. I sat across the table, pushing food around my plate, too disgusted with their behaviour to really eat.

Until Keaton would look at me, his eyes burning into my face and I would drop my gaze, feigning interest in my food.

And every night he would make the same remark about how he didn't understand why I was still living with them and couldn't I get a move on trying to find someone to "put up" with my "antics."

I had survived three years living under their roof, not without much teeth gritting and balled fists. If I lost my temper towards Keaton, it would just be one more excuse for him to try and put my out.

And honestly, I didn't want to be there at all. But the small fortune that had been left to me after my mother finally passed was to be given to me at the age of 20 or when I married, whenever that might be. At 19, I was really just bidding my time before my birthday where I could take my inheritance and leave on my own. Noelle would be the only thing I would miss, nothing else.

A loud banging on my door yanked me out of my thoughts. I crossed the floor wearily opening the door slowly until I came face to face with Keaton, a sarcastic aire about him, his eyes flashing with irritation.

"Oh I'm sorry, were you busy?" I didn't respond, just stood there knowing better than to answer him and waiting for him to continue with a whiny complaint. Lo and behold, the next thing out of his mouth was "oh but how can you be busy considering how you don't do anything of use around here."

It didn't always used to be like this. Keaton was once decent and I had liked him. That was probably 3 months into their marriage when things were nice and not difficult at all. I had been 15 then and living with my sister and my mother at our estate, my father long past. Keaton had shown up on our doorstep asking for the lady of the house, kissed mother's hand and disappeared into the parlor for hours with her. When they emerged, mother had a wide smile on her face that mirrored his and she called down for Noelle.