Jane Mattingson is contended with her life. She was living in an extravagant mansion with her loving father and annoying but secretly doting brother where reality seems more of an illusion. She couldn't ask for anything more. Or so she thought. As a...
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JANE MATTINGSON
"Good morning Miss Jane," Greeted the maid as she quietly ventured inside my room, head bowed in hesitation. "I brought you breakfast. Pancakes and eggs, your favorite."
A look of disgust etched across my weary features at the mention of the served food. Truth to be told, pancakes and eggs were not my favorite - hell, I hated them. Absolutely loathed them. Pancakes just doesn't tickle the fancy of my tastebuds and even the smell alone of fried egg wafting in my nose had me gagging but Daddy - God, he loved them. He even bantered about requesting our personal chef to make breakfast for out dinners. He was the sole reason I even dared to look back twice at pancakes and eggs.
I wanted to tell the maid to get the hell out of my room and throw the damned nightnare of a breakfast to the trash where I was very certain it belonged but regardless of being in an unstable emotional condition, I pursed my lips and took in a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. "I'm sorry but I'm not hungry. You can eat it if you want. I don't care." I declared monotonously as I continued staring outside the window, watching as every raindrop race down the glass.
How fitting. Even Mother Nature decided to attend my pity party and brought the rain along with her.
A sigh slipped from her mouth. "But Miss Jane, Sir Conrad told me not to leave you until you have eaten." She informed me so. "Please, you must eat something."
I shut my eyes tightly in annoyance, rage gurgling in the depths of my stomach. Even at this kind of time, in this kind of fucked up situation, Conrad still managed to tick me off. But then again, I shouldn't have expected anything else. He had always been the stubborn mule between us.
"Then you better get yourself comfortable here because I'm not eating that." I stated angrily, nails digging into my palms.
"Miss Jane -" The maid begins to voice out her opinion but I gave her no chance to continue.
"Look," I turned to her and she cowered back upon seeing my seething face. "I have no appetite to eat anything. I don't want to eat, don't you understand? Do I have to translate it to another language? Stop forcing me. If I don't want to eat, then I don't. Just . . . please, leave me alone."
I could sense the hesitance of the maid but after contemplating for a few moments or so, she left with a bow and closed the door. Once I was alone again, I returned my sight to the window and continued letting my mind wander free into oblivion.
It was so tranquil like this. A quiet morning with a slight drizzle accompanying my lone soul. The only thing missing was a smoking cup of hot coffee or soothing tea. But even drinking made my stomach churn and turn in ways I cannot explain. Doing something - or anything in general - seemed to be too draining for me. Even simply thinking became a task for me. All I want is for this serene moment to last until my dying breath.
