Miseria Cantare (The Beggining)

Silence. Nothing moves as she peers nervously round the old, mahogany door of her step-sister’s overly lavish bedroom. A crack of lightning outside illuminates the dark, loathsome interior of this false paradise. With a shifty glance she notices a stack of books on a large desk near the window. The room is lit again. Still, nothing moves.

Moving cautiously inwards towards the desk, the wind outside roaring elegantly, she opens a diary from two years prior. ‘20/03/02 – I cannot stand to live in the same house as her anymore. I have no idea what infernal desire possessed Mummy and Daddy to adopt such a worthless soul.’ Her inhibitions are being realised. She slams the book shut and turns round hastily in a feeble attempt to get away un-noticed. The lightning strikes again. Shrill, conceited and ruthless. The sharp, pronounced figure of her step-sister Anne stands in the doorway; every part of her magnified by the radiance of the incoming light. A shadowy silhouette, funereal throughout spare the blinding outline of her jagged build.

What on earth are you doing in here? Get out now before I tell Mummy you haven’t been doing your chores!
Yes Anne. Her reply complacent through years of experience. A clap of thunder rolls throughout the house as she hurries out of the room, down the sparsely lit corridor and into the darkness once again.

Are you ready yet Kay? You know how important this evening is going to be to your father. You don’t want to upset him do you?
No mother. I’ll be right down.

Kay put on the tiara her step-parents had given her and looked in the mirror. The image that stared back at her was not one she favoured. The red ruby that was engraved into the middle of that tiara was the centre-piece of all of this equivocation; the scornful eye of deception that Kay wished so hard to be emancipated from. She thought to herself that she hated the red dress that her step-parents had bought especially for her. Hated it, almost as much as she hated the life she was being forced to live. Kay saw little point in her attendance at her step-father’s friend’s party tonight other than that if she refused, she would end up locked in the kitchen for a week scrubbing the floors and making all of the meals. The thought of this alone was enough to make her glumly leave the room and make her way to the waiting car at the front of the house.

Kay was last into the black, chauffeur-driven Mercedes car. The look on everyone’s face, particularly her step-father’s, reflected a sense of anger and bitterness of which Kay was accustomed to. She knew that her unpunctuality would result in a severe punishment later. However, her step-father resigned at the chance to chastise her now. Instead he scowled menacingly at her before nodding to the driver that they were ready. As the car pulled out of the big, sullen gates of the house, Kay took a look at it and wondered whether its dull walls would entrap her forever more, or whether she would escape its hellish grasp.

Not long after a slow drive under the murky, dark and ruthless winter-night sky, they had arrived at their destination. It was a somewhat smaller house but still one that was considerably large enough to echo selfish airs of capitalistic greed similar to the prison she was kept in. They got out of the car and before Kay could do anything her step-mother dragged her to one side. She sternly whispered into her ear…Do not say a word unless you are spoken to. Even if you are, you will make sure that it reflects only the best qualitative features of my family and not your own false pretences. Is that understood?
Yes Mother. Kay replied, perfectly, as she entered the house.

The family were greeted by a middle-aged butler and then introduced to the son of the house’s owner. Good evening sir. On behalf of my father I would like to welcome you to our humble abode. He will join you shortly to thank you for your generosity in current business affairs. As for your wife and daughters, there is a free mini-bar so feel free to relax until the buffet is ready.
Oh, thank you very much, they all replied. Except Kay.

They had only been at the bar ten minutes when the owner arrived and joined them. It didn’t take long for Kay to get bored by their conversation, but instead of showing her uninspiring expression, which she knew she would be greatly frowned upon for later, she excused herself claiming that she needed to use the toilet.

As she was washing her hands in the bathroom Kay heard a dissimilar noise. It sounded a lot like a man entering the room; much more heavy-footed and clumsy. The moment of silence that she had been reveling in had been smashed. When she turned round, she discovered that she was not wrong. It was the son, the young man who had greeted them only fifteen minutes ago. Sharp and churlish, he drew nearer.

Without any hesitation he forced himself onto Kay and started to kiss her. She pushed him off immediately. What on earth do you think you’re doing?
“Oh you know exactly what I’m doing,” he answered. Bitter words rolled from his trenchant-tongue with appalling spleandour. “I’m only giving you the option to escape your monotonous existence. I saw the way you looked when you came in here today. It’s obvious you don’t want to be treat like an object: something that your family can just use to their own advantage. Isn’t that true?”
Well yes, but how can you possibly offer me anything more?
“Well, you’ll just have to trust me won’t you Kay?” He answered confidently.
How do you know my name? Kay answered nervously.
“Oh, I now a lot more than just your name. If you wish to accept my proposal then meet me in the master bedroom on the third floor in half an hour. I’ll give you all you’ve ever wanted but there will be a small price to pay…”

Calm, inaudible. The bathroom seems empty now that his presence is no longer paramount. I look around the exuberant bathroom at the magnificent works of art, the grand porcelain ornaments and the luxurious curtains. I debate what to do. I could continue with this evenings celebrations and pretend it never happened and return home with them. Or, I could see what his proposal is. But no, I can’t. His proposal has a hidden agenda. I can’t do it.

The room looks infinitely large. It’s as if it doesn’t want me to leave because it knows that something bad will happen. I have to admit, it is probably right. But if I don’t go to him then I will only end up back at that prison scrubbing floors and washing dishes for the rest of my futile existence. Then it is settled. I will go to him.

But wait, my mother. Before she died she always said never to loose hope; never give up in what you believe. Don’t loose sight, don’t let others plan out your life and you will find your way. It’s a shame my dear mummy wasn’t here to help me live that dream now.

Suddenly I see it: protruding out of the magnificent cupboard, glistening like a jewel in the warm, summer sun; a doctor’s scalpel. This isn’t right. I can’t take it. But I have to. For what else do I have to loose? I will take it just incase. After all, I’ve been alone in this world now for too long to leave it the same way. If I’m going to change something it has to be tonight.

Kay gently opened the cupboard and took the knife. She slid it up the sleeve of her dress under a bracelet so that it would be firmly in place but not revealed.

Confidence; she left the room un-hesitantly, the rich, wooden door closing with it the former chapter of her life. Gracefully she negotiated her way through corridors and halls, grabbing the attention of many catechistic eyes within the place as if she herself was the righteous owner of such wealth and decadence. Notorious in her own profound way she glided through the house towards its master. She knew what she was about to do. And she knew what she was about to become.

How long have you been here? came the stern question as the master’s son entered the bedroom and lumbered over towards me. “Oh, not long. I was bored downstairs and I assumed you wouldn’t mind me coming up a little earlier. Am I right?”
Oh yes, yes of course, the hesitant voice answered.
I need to find out what he wants from me.
“So what can I offer you that will reward me with such an auspicious deal?”
My dear… He spoke confidently whilst slowly approaching me sitting on the bed. I am wary of his gestures. You can offer me only yourself.

I pretend I’m unaware of what he meant. “I’m sorry, what do you mean? And what will all of this reap for my benefit?”
He moved away from me, closed and locked the door. With lights dimmed his face represented a demon’s: sharp, course, vulgar.

Let me show you what I mean. He started to kiss me again. He took my hands and forced me onto the bed. He was on top of me but I know what I’m doing.
“This isn’t what I had in mind.” I said to him defiantly.
I know it isn’t, but it’s worth it if you want to escape that awful life is it not?
Thinking for a moment time seems to prevail. He’s right; I don’t want that life anymore. But his folly lies within his ignorant dominance.
Take off your dress. He demanded.
“No.”
Ta…tak…take it off…now. He stammered. His eyes grew bigger. More alert and more stunned. He raised his arm and slid it up my thigh. Before it reached any higher I pull the scalpel from my left arm and drive it straight into his heart.
“NO!”

In an instant of fury I’m witnessing his demise in his weakening eyes. Blood’s burning round my heart; I’m like a possessed hound ripping apart the torso of a dead cat. He’s roaring convulsion as each pound of the knife lacerates into and through his forlorn body. I’m feeling more and more of the bitterness escaping my soul as I’m serrating his.

Some minutes later I realise that his screams of horror will attract unwanted attention. With one last swipe I slit his little throat. The blood leaks out just as my old life leaked out from within me. He is dead. I know that I can’t stay. There’s no other way out of the room but a window in the corner which is about fifteen feet above a collection of rose bushes. I open the window carefully, take one last look at his pitiful body and jump out.

Landing somewhat unharmed I realise that I am free. I take one look at the moon and instantly the thought of my mother comes shooting to the forefront of my mind. I reach for the tiara upon my head. Like a lead weight it was annexing the very essence of my free spirit every instant it was atop my head. I gradually take it off as to not spoil my hair and throw it to the cold, harsh ground as hard as I can. With a single stamp I crush it into a thousand pieces and kick the remains away to be carried far off into the twilight breeze.

My soul is gleaming with delight. I take a deep breath and walk swiftly into the midnight distance.