Flash Fiction: Prison Guest

Pradna Aqmaril Paramitha/180410150049

It’s almost eight. The dinner should have begun thirty minutes ago. The girl mused. Just where is the master?

The great dining room was empty, save for the girl who sat at one far end of the table and that midget, the head servant who stood still near the other end.

The girl sighed. Even with a lavish dinner lovingly set on the table, he still wouldn’t return.

What it something happened on the way? Oh Lord, I want him to be safe. I hope he’s still visiting a friend, cozily sitting near a fireplace somewhere. Is he with one of his lads? Or is the company another woman −she didn’t want to dwell on it any further.

Languidly, the girl rested her back on the velvet cushion of her chair. The ceiling, painted with a scene of angels frolicking in vibrant clothing, barely held any of her interest. Her mind wandered to her earlier days.

Before, she had been living through dwelling after dwelling- and in the hearts of the respective residents. She was no pesky freeloader, as she always willingly looked after both the abode and the homeowner.

And yet, to her dismay, the doors were eventually always closed on her.

The cycle kept on repeating, until she finally met him. With his aristocratic charm and dazzling smile, he invited her to live with him under one condition: that she would never venture outside the mansion.

Despite being forbidden to leave, the girl didn’t mind. She had gone through great lengths to gain her sanctuary and now that she’d found hers, she’d never let go.

The Master himself was an…. enigmatic housemate, to say the least. He rarely stayed at home. He also seemed to be having rendezvouses with mysterious company without her knowing. She kept approaching him, but he was reluctant to confide in her.

Like before, the girl kept maintainingthe mansion with help from the servants. The manor (and herself) grew more attractive with each passing day.

With time, he will finally notice my efforts, She spoke to herself. The day will come when we finally bask in each other’s company, just like true lovers.

The girl called over to the head servant. “Please clear out the table. I will be waiting for the Master near the fireplace.”

He answered her calmly. “M’lady, it will do you no good to keep expecting the Master.” His gaze bore down into her eyes. “This is futile.”

“What do you mean this is futile?” the Girl asked, surprised.

“With all due respect, My Lady,” the midget answered carefully. “There will be no presence of the Master. Not tonight, not ever.”

With sudden anger, the Girl leapt to her feet. “You’re wrong! The Master will return! He belongs here. I know, I know!” She began to cry, her shoulders trembling. “He promised me….”

The manservant closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“My Lady, you are- and have always been, the master of this house.”


Word count: 500

Reference: Beauty and The Beast

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