Ophelia.
The sun rays cut through my thin drapes, burning directly on my face. I lay still in bed, my eyes wide open as I stared blankly into the roof.
"Ophelia!"
I jerked out of bed and rushed to the door but after I pulled it open, there was nobody there. Just the sound of morning birds chirping and the gardener watering the flowers.
"Good morning miss.." he greeted and I nodded softly.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I walked back inside, slamming the door behind me. Living in this place, with my father and my stepmother, was slowly driving me insane to the point where even my mind has started playing tricks on me.
As the sun sat in its zenith, scattering bright orange rays all over the sky, I stood in front of my dressing mirror. My reflection stared right back at me through what was left of my broken mirror.
My rough hair fell on my shoulders, scars that looked like labels covered my body in very visible areas. I wanted to cry, to scream for my freedom from this hell I was in.
But even my voice had grown afraid of this torture. My eyes wandered down to the open drawer below. Inside sat a small bottle, the green substance inside glowed faintly as I lifted the bottle and took off its lid.
"You must take this religiously. It'll cleanse every ill spirit you were born with!"
"Sin! That is what you are, Ophelia!"
My father's voice echoed in my head. I stared at the bottle again and emptied it inside my mouth, squinting my eyes as the bitter liquid went down my throat.
I took a deep breath, cleaned myself in the washroom and headed outside. The house was already buzzing with activities, the sweet aroma of food filled the air. I picked up my cleaning cloth and a bucket of water, heading towards my father's study.
His door was half ajar when I got there and my heart sank at the thought of him being inside. Anyone who saw us the way we were would never believe his blood flowed through my veins.
I never met my mother, I had no sisters to share my struggles and my laughter with, neither did I have brothers who would protect me from harm. All my life, I have only known torture, pain and misery.
After waiting at the door for a few seconds, I took a deep breath and pushed the door wider, letting myself in, head first.
"Father?" I called out. Silence responded and all my tense nerves relaxed. I placed the bucket down and started cleaning, making sure to get every speck of dust.
My hands worked fast, my back ached from all the slouching and bending, the sole of my feet hurt badly, but I was nowhere close to being done.
Beads of sweat flowed down my face and my head spun around. "Take a little rest Ophelia.." I muttered under my breath as I tossed the rag on the table.
I sat on a desk, leaning on the shelf in front of it as I tried to steady my breath. My body felt sore even as I tried to rest, but I'd rather just sit here for a few minutes than slump and die in my father's study before I even get the chance to see the world as a free woman.
My heartbeat had finally returned to its original rhythm, but a familiar scent filled the air. Footsteps approached me from behind but before I could even lift my head to see who it was, dirty water flowed down from my hair to the rest of my body.
The floor I just scrubbed with nothing but my bare hands and a cloth was soiled all over again.
As if that wasn't enough, the iron bucket landed on my face with a loud bang. Aside from the cold dirty water, I felt something warm trickling down my forehead and I knew immediately what that was.
"What do you think you're doing, you dirty bastard?" My stepmother's sharp voice cut through my ears.
I used the only dry part of my dress to wipe my eyes so the water wouldn't get into my eyes.
"When I ask you a question –" her hand crossed my face heavily and I held my hot cheek, tears welling up in my weary eyes.
"–you bloody give me a response! Don't stand there and look me in the eye, you peasant!"
I swallowed my words. My stomach churned, tears burned my eyes and it felt like there was something hot in my throat that made it difficult for me to even breathe.
"I… I was o…only trying to rest for a while.." my words finally slurred out but even my stuttering made her angrier than she already was.
"Who said you could rest when you should be doing your work? The only things you were born with are weak bones and a bag of evil, but I won't let you infect the rest of this household with your filth!"
Another slap landed on my face, and then another. The more I tried to endure, the more painful it became. I fell to my knees, my cheeks red and sore but she didn't stop.
I watched her pick up the bucket and without a second thought, she hit me several times, like I was some roach she was trying to get rid of.
Blood oozed out of the many cuts she had given me, I winced in pain but she didn't stop. I had learnt not to cry for help anymore because all it got me was even worse fate and drained strength.
"Get your weak bones up and get to work before I beat life out of you! She roared and coughed up phlegm, spitting it right beside me.
I felt disgusted. Anger, pain, hatred, all of them filled my mind. But there was nothing more I could do.
She stormed out of the study and I dragged my bleeding body up from the floor so I could finish up with cleaning before my father comes.
As I returned to my room, hunger tore through my intestines. I took a warm bath, making sure to get rid of as much dirt and blood as I could.
I winced in pain as I applied some ointment on the cuts, but the pain was nothing compared to the gut wrenching feeling in my stomach.
I smelled the food, my mouth watered but I knew better than to even waltz into the kitchen to ask for scraps or leftovers.
I changed into new clothes and sat in my bed, staring into empty space. A knock came and I looked at the door for a moment before walking over to open it.
"The lady of the house has sent for you.." the girl said as I held the door open. Her eyes bore into mine like a sharp hot knife. I could see the lines around her nose as she tried to scrunch them.
Of course I was staying in a slum, away from the rest of the living beings in this place. My father confined me to a small room, at the far end of the garden in the back. The only link I had to the main house was a dark hallway.
Even the least servant here stayed in a better place than I did, but the last thing I did was complain. I did do that once, but the outcome remains something I'd never wish to relive.
"I'm right behind you.." I muttered but before I could I even finish my statement, she hurried off like I was a plague.
I shut my door and walked down the dark corridor, my legs unsteady and my eyes weary. I tried to not make the pain I was feeling obvious, but the more I moved the more I felt sharp pains in the places I sustained injuries.
My stepmother sat in her chair in the living room, her eyes focused in my direction as I approached.
"You've been summoned, Ophelia…" she started. I waited in silence to hear who she was talking about but she turned her eyes to the papers in her hands.
"Summoned… by who?" I asked.
"My husband, he wants you to meet an esteemed guest. A very important guest that could change your life for good.."
I folded my lips, my heart throbbed quickly. I had more questions to ask but I knew better than to risk getting beheaded.
"Now go put on something more presentable, that is if you have any.." I lowered my head in shame.
"And make sure you behave properly.. thread with caution because I will be watching you."
I nodded without a word. A part of me had my suspicions about what this so-called meeting was all about, but I kept my mouth shut as usual.
As I walked back to my room, my mind pictured my fate. Everyone knows my father's rule is starting to lose its authority, so it's either he's planning a political arrangement, using me as the object of agreement just to create a stronger alliance.
"Now I'm getting pawned off?"
