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In the name of death
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Sophie:The broken Mistress Reminiscing
Angrily, she tore down the office. I crashed through the desk until it was only wood and lumber. He wiped all his books from the bookcase and brought the bookcase down. In their room, she picked up all his clothes and tore out every photo that had his face on it—anything that would bring back a memory of him. She packed them all and dumped them on his grave, then lit a matchstick and watched it burn. It was better this way, she decided. His memory had no place in her heart, in her life, or in this world. She returned inside as the last of his memories burned and called on her maid. “My husband died from a fall.” She told her. “I will not tolerate hearing otherwise from the women in this village. And from now on, we will receive no guests. Barr the doors and windows, lock up the study, and bring the keys to my room. It is now a prohibited area.” The maid would have asked Madame a simple question, but she knew better. She nodded her head obediently and went to do as her Madame had
Sophie:The broken Mistress Voices in our head
Voices in our heads The night was warm and quiet. The perfect night for murder. When death came, it was silent. Always, it made no noise as it went up the stairs or as it stepped on the wooden floor; it made no noise when it opened a door slowly or when it chose whose hand to use as a working tool. The tools, on the other hand, were what made the noise. They were the ones that shattered the sacred silence of the night and, most times, drew attention to themselves just as it was on this night. Death had come; she may have felt it because she was suddenly awake, and that was when she noticed that her husband was not by her side. Then she had climbed down from the bed and went to check on the kids, and she smiled when she found them both sleeping and hurdled together. Silently: no. As she could (no one can be as silent as death), she tiptoed into their room and pried them apart, and just as she made to carry Alice into her own bed, she saw death. She jumped and looked around; it
Sophie:The broken Mistress It was all a dream
The moon bathed her in its light. He saw her now and thought she was an angel with the way she glowed. Her red hair fell over her shoulders, and the small nightgown she wore did nothing to hide the curves and the beauty of her perfect figure. He stood there mystified, memorized by her, and could not help but feel the feeling of longing that had begun to grow inside him, yearning only for her. He wanted, with everything in him, to go out into the light and sit with her beside the meadow. They would watch the water and talk, and then they would kiss. After that night, it was most of the things that filled his thoughts. Cradling her soft body in his hands, he ran his hands over her smooth skin. Often times he thought of the meadow—her favourite spot—and it was here that he imagined them making passionate love. Under the moonlight, on the moist ground, each of them did not mind the mud that would get in their hair or stain their bodies. They would only care about getting the most fr
Sophie:The broken Mistress In the moment of death
The voice was all that was on his mind. Her voice. The clarity and peculiarity. It had been as though he were submerged in an ocean, and her voice was what led him to the shore. He wanted to hear it again. His body longed for it, and his heart ached for it. It was still black outside, but he had heard Sophie climb up some moments ago. He thought about meeting her but thought against it. Still, his body could not lie still. He had tossed and turned and turned and tossed, but no position or angle was good enough for him. Alice's story was compelling, yet he did not want it to finish. It scared him to think of what he was going to find there. What happened to Alice? Did she die then or later? Did they ever find her body? How does it all connect to Sophie? He longed to know, and he knew he had all the answers in his hand, yet he could not bring himself to finish it. Sophie’s voice, too, was in the corner of his mind. Playing and replaying. He was sure of what he had heard and the
Sophie:The broken Mistress Had i know
Veronica seemed careless. She had put the child in the cot with Eliana’s child and turned to smile at her sister. Eliana hated the smile. Now, though, it was all she wanted to see. “Calm down, sister.” Veronica had said, pushing Eliana into a seat by the fire. She moved to the kitchen and began to prepare tea. Eliana remembered detesting how she moved around the house like it belonged to her. “Why are you here?” she had asked once Veronica brought the tea to her. The answer was there; she should not have asked. But the question had already left her lips, and it hung in the air until Veronica plucked it. “Like you do not already know. You know whose child that is.” Veronica responded, lowering herself into the recliner and looking into the fire. Eliana would have loved to be in that recliner. She eyed her sister contemptuously. She would like everything that her sister had—her face, her body, her beauty, Andre’s love—but the child. She did not want the child. What was she to
Sophie:The broken Mistress In the moment of death II
Eliana missed her sister. She thought of her often since that night. She had realized a long time ago that her sister was right – Adrian, the man she had fallen in love and chose with was a devil and if there was anything worse than that, then he was it –but she couldn't bring herself to accept this fact within her let alone mention it with her own mouth. Instead, she had chosen to clean up after him. Every mess he made, she found it and then she cleaned it up before others found out it ever happened. She used to tell herself that she did it for him, for their family but she could not lie to herself. She did everything for herself. To satisfy her need to be validated by society. To constantly appear perfect in the eyes of everyone and every night, she would sit on the toilet seat and bawl her eyes out after looking through the mirror and seeing what others could not see – the monster who she had made herself become. She had always told herself that marrying Adrian turned her int
Sophie:The broken Mistress The drugs
Her aunt’s room used to be upstairs – the room which Rhys now used – but because of Adrian’s illness she had to move downstairs. It was easier to take care of him and attend to his needs with their rooms being so close. She laid her aunt on the bed then felt for the woman’s temperature. It had risen considerably high and Sophie sensed a fever setting in. Perhaps the news really affected her aunt so much. Rhys came in shortly after, announcing that he had succeeded in sending everyone away. Sophie nodded gratefully. “Water and cloth.” Sophie signed and Rhys nodded. He went back out and returned almost immediately with a bowl and cloth which he set on the bedside table. Thanking him with a shirt nod of her head, Sophie took the cloth and soaked it in the water then laid it gently on her aunt’s forehead. “You see?” Rhys said with an amused expression on his face. “You do care for her.” Sophie scoffed. “She’s family.” She signed. Rhys nodded and took a seat at the far end of
Sophie:The broken Mistress Perhaps death is a sham
Eliana woke with a start and immediately held her aching head as if that would do anything to subside the headache. Slowly, she got off the bed, wondering how she had gotten there in the first place. The last thing she remembered was the doctor. She rushed to the door—she had guests also—and quickly leaned on it for support. The dream came back like a distant memory. She saw bits and pieces of it, but one thing she remembered well was her sister. She gritted her teeth. Slowly, she pushed herself away from the wall when Rhys suddenly appeared. He held her, and his expression was tinged with concern. She remembered him now, telling her visitors to leave. She frowned. “You do not look okay.” He commented and led her into the room, which she just came from. She slapped his hand away. “Where is Sophie?” she queried, looking around. “With Adrian” She did not let him finish. She sidestepped him and rushed into her husband’s room. Sophie jumped to her feet as the door flew open, re
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