Cursed

12. Belle's Midnight Snack

12. Belle's Midnight Snack

I had refused to come out for lunch and now it was around dinner time. I was starving. Several different inanimate objects that happened to be strangely animate had tried to get me to leave the room but I wouldn't even open the door. Sure, I was curious and hungry and bored to death but pride and fear had kept me from complying. There was a knock on the door and I pulled a pillow over my head.
“The master demands that you join him for dinner,” came a voice. I didn't answer. And then there was a growl and I clutched the pillow tighter and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Open the door!” The beast roared. I stayed quiet. “I said open the DOOR!”
“No!” I yelled through the pillow.
“You can't stay in there forever!” He replied angrily.
“Yes, I can!” I retorted. I had thrown the pillow at the door and pressed myself against the wall.
“I'll break down the door!” He threatened, and I hoped he was bluffing, how I hoped he was bluffing.
“I hate you!” It was true but what had prompted me to say so was a mystery to me. There was a frustrated growl outside my door.
“Fine! Don't come out. You can go ahead and starve yourself for all I care!” Heavy stomps and several clatters told me that the beast and all if its animate objects had left me to myself. My stomach growled.
Time passed as I wallowed in my misery and the moon outside my window mocked me with its freedom. It was a clear night, I guess the clouds ran out after last night's cats and dogs. It had been dark for awhile and my curiosity and stomach got the better of me.
I crept to the door and took the key out of my back pocket. I placed it in the hole and tentatively turned it. The lock clicked and I turned the knob. Peeking around the door, I decided to leave my muddy rain boots behind.
The house was silent as I made my way through the empty halls until I came to a large kitchen. I quietly looked in to see animate objects bustling about.
“Hello miss,” the candleholder popped up out of nowhere and startled me.
“I–I–I,” I stammered.
“You must be famished,” he exclaimed.
“Well... Yeah,” I replied sheepishly.
“Follow me, love, let's fetch you something to eat.” I followed the candleholder as he clattered into the kitchen.
“Teapot!” He bellowed, “fetch the girl some tea,” then returning to me he asked, “Now what would you like dear?”

“Oh, I couldn't,” I stammered some more, “I don't want to inconvenience anyone.”

“Nonsense, what can we get you?” he insisted.

“Maybe just some toast.”
“Toast! Butter, jam, cheese!” he ordered the other appliances enthusiastically and they all scuttled around me. I was led to a table by a chair that shoved itself beneath me and a plate placed itself before me along with a knife, spoon and teacup. Then a teapot came with honey and sugar and another plate beneath a tall tower of toast. Then a bowl of jam and a bowl of butter and a block of cheese.
I snatched up a slice of toast greedily and slathered on some butter and jam. It was gone before I had time to notice I was eating it and I quickly grabbed another one and a slice of cheese. I ate maybe five pieces and downed three cups of tea before I was nice and full.
The appliances and several pieces of cutlery gathered around and watched me curiously.
“What is your name, dear?” Asked the candleholder.
“Belle.”
“What a lovely name,” sang the teapot, “almost as lovely as yourself.” My face burned.
“Thank you,” I smiled meekly, embarrassed. It wouldn't have been my first choice of words to describe myself. Or second, or third, or any choice really.
“You know, the master is not so terrible.” I could not help but gawk at the teapot when she said this.
“Oh, don't look so surprised, he does have a bit if a temper but also a good heart.”
“I'm his prisoner,” I bluntly replied.
“I'm not saying you haven't a reason to be angry, just that you should give him a chance, get to know him.”
“I don't want to get to know him, I want to go home.” I hid my face in my hands.
“Why don't you come out for breakfast tomorrow.”
“No, I don't want to see him.” Ever.
“Do it for us,” pleaded the candleholder. I shook my head stubbornly. I stood from my chair and he offered to walk me to my room. He clattered on the stone floor loudly and I worried it would arouse the attention of the beast. It didn't.
I opened the door when the candleholder told me to wait and I turned to face him.
“Think about it,” he said softly. He bowed as a goodnight and clattered away.
I closed the door behind me and went to the bed. A simple silk nightgown had been set out neatly on the top sheet. I lifted it by its thin straps and thought, why not? I stripped off my own clothes and dropped them on one of the chairs that had discussed me earlier. I slipped into the nightgown and marveled at the expensive cloth around me. I climbed onto the bed, into the covers and was asleep before I had given breakfast another thought.