Anastasia had never had an easy life. Living with an abusive step father and an even worse mother, Anastasia had accepted the fact that her life would not be getting any better. But their sudden death has given Anastasia hope, hope that she would in...
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Trigger warning- forcing a person to eat. (Don't really know how else to describe it.) If you are not comfortable with such scenes, please skipped the italicised part.
A loud banging on the door brings me out of the fitful sleep I had drifted into. Groaning, I get up and trudge towards the door, opening it I see the human version of Garfield, "Come down for dinner." Alvise says before walking away.
Fixing up my hair slightly I follow him towards the dining room, all the others are already sat there, looks like I was the last one to arrive, the table has been set to perfection, with the three different sized spoons laid in perfect symmetry, the cloth napkin folded neatly and the candles lit in the centre of the table.
God! How much more rich and posh can these people be? I receive the answer to my question when Camille, the maid I had seen earlier walked into the room wheeling a cart with the food and let me tell you this isn't your basic spaghetti and meatballs dinner, it was a fettuccine a la - something fancy with what looked like truffles, and the serving size was massive. Okay, maybe not massive but it was still almost twice the size as much as I would usually eat.
The plate was set in front of everyone, and without any further questions everyone started to dig in. Hesitantly I picked the fork up, trying to suppress the shaking in my hands, twirling the utensil in the pasta, I brought it up to my mouth. It tasted delicious, the sauce was so flavourful and the pasta cooked to perfection. I wasn't someone who could indulge in luxuries such as truffles quite often but man were they delicious.
The next few bites were swallowed with ease, until I felt full, looking at my plate I realised that it was only half finished. My gaze swept around the table seeing as the others were still eating, Joseph was almost finished with his serving and from the way he was eyeing the pot on the table, it was clear he was about to get some more.
"Anastasia?" my head snaps towards my father, "What happened? Why aren't you eating?" and within the next second, I wasn't sitting at the table anymore, i was back at my old house, in that old dingy apartment that almost permanently smelled of weed.
I was thirteen years old, sat at the small dining table where my mother had bought me mac and cheese, I hadn't eaten anything for the past three days, a pattern that had been consistent for a while now, leading to my barely there appetite.
"Why the fuck aren't you eating?" my mother yelled at me. I had only been able to eat a few bites from the bowl. "M-mom, I am not hungry anymore, I'll keep this and eat it later. I promise." I tried to convince her.
"Oh, so now you're gonna waste the food I fucking give you. You ungrateful little bitch!" I hated it when she yelled, especially when she said those words to me. But I knew it would be so much worse if I said anything back to her. "No, I promise I won't waste it, I will eat it later but I'm full right now." I said. But it was clear that my mother wasn't in the mood.
