Perception ✔

3 Monsters & Bait

There were few creatures as strange as people. We fancied ourselves above average animals, refusing to admit that we could be ensnared.

Yet the promise of countless things enticed us. We venture into places unhealthy for us despite our brains warning us not to. And as I rose from my bed in the morning, having not yet readied myself for the day, still my mind screamed at me to leave, while my body remained.

How could two parts of the same entity act out of harmony?

I did not know, but I heeded the warning.

Today, I would leave. Coming back here was a moment of weakness, an unnecessary one.

And besides, I had quite a bit to lose.

Once I was ready to greet the day, the sun shined high. I hesitated to walk out. For if I left, I would not return.

My mind told me to go, but my very being felt comforted here. From the good memories growing up, to the bad upon my leaving, to what the house now entailed.

Cinderella.

I'd left her here, in this very house. And to have her back, even for a moment.... A part of me came back with it.

But she wasn't the only one I left.

Edmond.

With a new resolve, I marched to my door and swung it open. I was leaving.

Two big blue eyes greeted me.

Cinderella, clutching her patchwork doll, radiated joy. "It worked! You are still here."

She rushed me and I nearly stumbled back with the impact of her tight embrace.

"I'd hoped you hadn't left. And now you are still here. When you are hired, you will be living here, won't you?"

Wouldn't I?

I wouldn't. Especially now that I'd gotten what I wanted—her joy.

Admittedly, I held onto her longer than I should have—because I would miss her.

"Come," I said, finally, pushing her back, "this is not how a lady carries herself."

The smile faded little by little, and I, desperate for it again, promised, "Let us have a nice breakfast and then we'll play together."

Just like that, her happiness returned, more brilliant than ever.

She grabbed my arm to drag me to breakfast, but I caught hers instead, shaking my head at the sight of her.

"Who has done your hair?" I scolded on my march back into the room. I returned with a hairbrush and went to work trying to untangle the blond mess.

"I do my own hair," she boasted with a wince. "Governess, that hurt. Haven't I done a good job?"

I set my mouth to admonish her presentation but hesitated. Was that really the memory I wanted her to have of me should we never meet again?

Rather than complain, I tried to tug the hair instead of pulling it, and I took more care with the brush strokes.

Admittedly, even my own girls did their hair. But they were exquisite at it. Cinderella...less so. A governess, a real one, would make all the difference for her.

Crazed, mad thoughts raced through my mind. Perhaps I could be a governess.

No.

A woman of my station was no governess.

With a few carefully placed pins, the once unruly mess was a sight.

She brushed past me and thundered into my room to use the mirror.