Vulnerable

A Fresh Start

Ophelia sat with her head down, her hands held tightly together under the table. She could feel the sweat between her fingers start to make its way down to the center of her palms. Squeezing until her nails dug into the soft skin underneath, she was tempted to stand up and wipe her hands down the front of her uncomfortable dress. 

When she had been instructed by Martha to put on her finest dress, she hadn't expected the maid to pull out this specific one. It was one of her mother's "special" ones. 

At this exact moment, Ophelia would have given anything to be able to tear it off and throw it across the room, as far from her as possible. It was dresses like this one, that had led her mother to darkness. Never to return. 

Am I boring you, Ms. James?

Snapping back to reality, she looked up at the woman staring at her, a stern look of disapproval and disappointment etched across her face. Even if Mrs. Rossi wasn't nearing the age of 90, she would still be able to shake Ophelia right down to the bone. She had that presence about her, it was her blue blood, after all. It was in her veins.

I apologize for my rudeness, Ma'am. Actually I- I'm very tired. It was a long flight. Ophelia prayed as she spoke that she would be excused soon, unable to take it much longer. 

She wanted the nice maid, Martha, who was nervously standing to her right, to guide her back upstairs and down the several halls until she was back in the lavish and unnecessarily large bedroom that had been appointed to her earlier. 

But she also knew this part needed to take place, and the sooner she got it over with the better. 

Mrs. Rossi's heavily wrinkled forehead scrunched even further as she frowned at Ophelia. After what seemed like several minutes had passed in silence, she took a deep breath and waved at Martha.

Take her up to her room. Unpack her things and throw out everything that looks like the tragic excuse of attire that Ms. James has on right now. If she is to be a guest at this residence, she must look the part from now on.  

 The old woman spoke with the rigid confidence that came with years of wealth and status. It was a voice that no one could refuse, and one that wasn't meant to be argued with. 

Before she could even register the words, Ophelia felt a hand wrap around her arm as she was gently helped out of her chair and led out of the room. Her eyes went down and watched her feet hurriedly follow the maid's. 

As they headed towards the grand staircase, she thought back to the moment she had first entered the estate in which she was to reside from now on. She had arrived by private transportation that had picked her up from the airport earlier; during the drive here she sat in the back of the luxurious vehicle quietly as the outside scenery passed by in a blur. So when the maid with the nice smile had offered her assistance upon her arrival to the mansion, Ophelia had openly accepted it. It was the first human interaction that she had had in this new place that she was meant to call home.

Don't take her too seriously, dear. She is old but she cares.  Once again, the sound of someone's words snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Martha was looking at her with a kind and patient look, and suddenly Ophelia wanted to hug the woman tightly. She pushed the urge away and smiled back.

I do not mind. I am very grateful for what the Rossi family is doing for me.

 As she spoke, she realized she meant it too. Despite the nervous breakdown she was seconds away from having, she was relieved she had made it this far from the dark and suffocating reality of her past. As long as she focused and kept the disturbing thoughts away from her mind, she knew it wouldn't be long before she could get Juliet here too.