Wildcat

3

As the realization that William T. Jennings put my mom in jail hits me, I can feel my father's eyes on the back of my head, willing me to retaliate. Almost hoping for it. Instead, I turn slowly around with a faint, cold smile on my face.

'Two can play at this game', I think to myself.

Seemingly disappointed, William T. Jennings turns to leave, saying "you can go wherever you want, Melody. Just don't bother me or my advisors unless you're being murdered".

The door closes and I use my newfound solitude to find my bearings. Sighing, I look through the closets, which are full to the brim of expensive, beautiful clothes. I pull on the plainest outfit I can find and walk out to the balcony facing the forest. What most interests me in the view is the crumbling old house on the edge of the woods.

It's an old brick cottage, with half the roof almost caving in. To me, it is the most beautiful thing on the property. My balcony isn't very high, so I climb over the edge and use the vines to make my way to the ground. I would rather do this than go out the front door and be accosted by one of my father's servants.

I stroll across the lawns, feeling like I'm breaking some unsaid rule. But, my father told me I could go wherever I want....

When I reach the cottage I see that it's even bigger than I thought. It has (or used to have) two floors, and maybe even a basement. It looks pretty old, but I can't say exactly how old.

I push open the cracked wooden door and enter. Unlike my father's mansion, this small house is silent. Dust swirls lazily in the beams of light emitting from four cracked glass windows. In my exploration of the first floor, I find a small living room complete with an ashy fireplace and faded woven rug. There's a small kitchenette through a door to my right, and a bathroom to the left.

Climbing the creaky stairs, I examine a dusty mural painted across the plaster wall. It depicts a strange scene interspersed with ancient castles and quaint towns. Strangely, a large rectangular spot centered over the landing on the stairs has been left blank, almost as if something had hung there in the past. The mural looks very mythological, and is skillfully wrought.

Upstairs the cottage is more barren than the main floor. Any furniture is broken, and many windows have no glass in their frames. Room after room looks like this, until I reach the part where the roof has caved in.

This room might have been a library, because rows of empty bookshelves line two walls. An empty easel decorates the far wall. Climbing over a massive chunk of roof, I reach the easel, and find an unfinished oil painting laying to one side, as if it had fallen off when the roof caved in.

I set the slightly moldy canvas back on the easel and gaze at the image. It depicts an overweight woman on a throne, swathed in purple velvet robes. A small kitten lounges on her lap. The woman appears to be a queen, judging by the dainty crown on her head. The composition is quite beautiful, but half of the canvas has been left unpainted. Faint lines delineate the parts of the picture that need to be painted, and it shouldn't be too hard to fill in.

For some reason, I resolve myself to fill in this painting. So, I pick the surprisingly light painting up and head back towards my room.

When I stop under my balcony, a problem arises. I can't get up the same way I came down, and I really do not want to walk through my father's house carrying a moldy, stolen painting.

As I stand in the courtyard dithering, a man comes up behind me and announces his presence.

"Miss Melody! Your father wishes to see you at dinner. If you will follow me...?"

I turn around and push past him, saying, "I'm not anyone's 'miss'".

The servant looks affronted, but I don't wait to hear his response. I just open the servant's door that the man came out of and climb a winding staircase to my room.