The Criswell's Curse

Seedling, day 16, year 1356

A tall and large mansion with an even bigger garden whose nature felt the thriving of the new season, of a blessed Seedling. Walls that had ears and flowers that had mouths, spitting poison to whoever gave the most profit - that was the harsh reality of living within the Duke’s estate.

“Make sure you eat it all.” A maid placed a rusty tray on top of the wooden desk, glancing over at me with her light brown eyes. She snorted loudly, displaying her annoyance with my presence.

Another maid popped from the large halls, her head peaking from the wooden door frame, a wide smile stamped on her plump lips. “Nessa, aren’t you coming?”

“Yeah, I am done here.” Without a second thought, they rushed out the door. The loud chuckles echoing through the halls became fainter as their presences traveled further away into the staircase.

The pearly white sheets had become slightly crumbled as my hands caressed them rather strongly. Carefully, my fingers removed the pressure and warmth emanating from the cotton layer before getting back to my feet. Reluctantly, I wobbled towards the pale plate adorned with large pieces of food cooked God knows when.

An intense, putrid smell rooted deeply into the black lettuce while the small slice of white-ish beef cowered in the tableware’s corner, almost blending in with its surroundings. My stomach twitched on itself, remembering all the times such dishes had gotten me sick before, all the times I’d forced myself to eat foul food just to survive.

“And you know...!”

My attention shifted to the large, tightly shut window where two female voices came running from the bright green garden outside. Like a sickening display of joy, the loud and obnoxious laughter voyaged into my ears, testing my patience. Below me were Vanessa and Penny, my two assigned maids, chatting happily while eating their far too appealing lunch. As usual, it didn’t take long for the group to grow as their sleek smiles and flirtatious attitude charmed two new butlers into the conversation. Their behavior was predictable and unamusing as it had come to pass far too many times before.

Some days ago, my 15th birthday took place and, as usual, not even a single soul cared. After my mother died at birth, everything remained the same, just like a pitiful joke where I was the main clown. As expected, I lived like a ghost, a lost creature whose sole purpose was to wander through the empty halls, leading the poor servants to their ruin with my own cursed existence. And, of course, thanks to the neglect of the Duke, none cared about me or my well-being, meaning meals were scarce and rotten while the room where I laid had forgotten the familiar shape of a mop or a dust cloth. Even then, not everything was bad. Forgotten beings could freely roam around the estate, listening and gaining essential information for their master plan, raising no flags in the process.

“I guess it’s time...” I mumbled to myself before shifting the large curtains to the front of the window, blocking the sunlight from trespassing into the room.

With a quirky twist of ankles, my hands stole a purple dress from the closet, covering my body with its scratchy, old fabric. Dust particles flew around as my fingers slapped the hem of the attire in strong, repeated movements before grabbing my hair and freeing it from the dress’s grasp, which was probably weaker than I was as its material had been stretched to the fullest, courtesy of my sister’s big breasts.

Quietly, I left my chambers and walked down the long yet simple halls, adorned with nothing more than some casual desks and potted bright green plants, allowing some life to be brought to the ghost-like western area. The tall ceiling held a crystal-like chandelier and the floor, made of shiny rosewood, displayed part of the wealth of the Criswell’s family just with its existence – which was far too ironic as my surroundings were the forgotten grounds, being far too cheap looking and prohibited to peering eyes.

A group of maids, hands filled with large baskets and bright red dresses inside, passed by. Their chuckles were loud, and one could swear their smiles stretched as far as their ears, all of which caused me to wake up from my momentary daydream.

“You see, I heard about it from Ruth, she...” Acting as if my presence was null, they promptly strolled by, ignoring my presence and completely disregarding my status. This was merely one of the gracious blessings of the Duke, yet it boiled within me, becoming infuriating to bear witness. Surely, I was still that man’s own flesh and blood, was I not?

Reaching the center of the mansion, a chuckle escaped me. Of course, everywhere else was drowning in luxury and extravaganza, in gold, silver and ruby, my sister’s favorite color. Statues carved by some of the most popular artists traveled all the way to the entrance hall as the crimson carpet extended into the corridors, almost merging into the mahogany floors. At the staircase lurching down onto the ground floor, my feet froze, sinking into this world’s reality.

“Mother.” A whisper sneaked past my lips as I witness the beautiful and majestic painting that had been meticulously placed on the dark-colored wall. Two large handles holding pearly white candles surrounded it, enlightening the portrait with their dim, yet warm, lights, flickering alongside the soft breeze coming from the half-opened window at the end of the space.

Long and loose ginger curls that ran all the way to the waist, skin as fair as snow, lips that mimicked the beauty of a pink rose, and big yet bright blue eyes that sparkled more than any ocean wave, threatening to crash against the coast. That was Lilith Criswell, my mother.

Unconsciously, my fingers traveled through the wonderful art display, caressing each painted stroke carefully. An aching sensation filled my heart; some runaway tears even gathered in the corner of my eyes. “This truly doesn’t capture your utmost beauty... Mother...”

A loud sound interrupted my train of thought and the roots of reality quickly grabbed onto my soul, waking me up from these painful memories - this resentful past. Immediately, I headed towards the first room on the right, some meters away from mother’s painting, before opening the tall door and witnessing the incredible, yet expected scenario.