In Love with the Ringleader

The Ghost of Christmas Past - Chapter Two

Cass descended the staircase, her footsteps soft and light. The house was not completely asleep if the single yellow lamp downstairs said anything. That, and the low voice that spoke muffled words, piquing her curiosity.

She wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, not with her mind still reeling from earlier that evening. Cass' ego had taken quite the blow. No one had ever told her she was selfish or a brat. Who were they to say such awful things to me? Cass had thought, her anger now igniting once again. She moved down the steps much swiftly, gripping the railing tight in her palm.

The light below was coming from the drawing room. One of their old gas lamps, she assumed, splaying orange light across the walls. Reaching the first floor, Cass tip-toed her way toward the room, nearing the glowing walls, as the voice from inside got louder.

"On days like these," mumbled the voice, "I wonder if you realize, my darling Anna, the burn you've left on your family."

Cass cocked her head to the side, face scrunching as she turned over the words in her head, listening carefully. "She's following your path and I can't help asking you why you'd do something like this. To me, after everything."

She reached the doorway that lead into the drawing room. Kneeling down outside, Cass hid her body behind the wall but poked her head out to see what went on. In the room, she saw the lamp resting on her father's wide desk. The desk sat a lean man who hunched over it determinedly, as if whatever. he wrote he was exceedingly passionate about.

As she saw it, the man spoke every word he wrote, and the ink pen he gripped went up and down at a measured pace. The light in the room brightened his surroundings but managed to miss his face. Cass felt her heart grow sick; it wasn't hard to decipher who it was by their hair- their dark hair.

Joseph Bellamy heaved a breath as he lifted his pen, jaw tensing. "You've left a bad impression on this family, my Anna. But the impressions aren't the only thing you left."

Cass wanted to embrace her father; the amount of pain he was experiencing was evident in the tone of his quiet voice. Only one person could have evoked such pain-her mother-and it was hard to imagine what it would be like for her father if the cursed woman was truly forgotten.

"I know what you would say, Anna. And it's because I know this, that I will be doing the opposite on my own terms. I've decided that Cassandra will be submitted into the all-girl boarding school of Linden Hall. She will not be happy, I know that as well, but I feel that it is something I must do. Vincent has agreed to take her to Pennsylvania the Tuesday of next week, but I have yet to share this news with Cassandra herself."

Cass felt her face go as white as winter snow. Boarding school? Pennsylvania? She wanted to dash into the room and scream at her father, but that wouldn't help her case one bit, and she knew it. Cass stumbled back from the doorway, and for the first time in her life, she wasn't graceful at all. A strangled noise clawed its way from her throat, alerting her father in the drawing room. Papers ruffled and a chair scraped the floor; she heard him stand up from the desk.

The horror of Joseph actually catching her made Cass think only one thing: I have to get out. She lurched forward, scurrying toward the back door she'd entered through earlier.

"Hello?" Her father called into the now dark house, "is anyone there?"

She was out of breath already, and on the verge of hysterics, but kept dashing for the exit until finally, the door loomed ahead. Cass slammed against the thing, cranking the knob with excess force, and swung it wide.

"Hey!" Joseph yelled, hearing the door as it smacked back into position. The man was too late, however. Cass was already a block down the street by the time he checked for himself, only to be greeted by blackness.