The courting trap

Gone Girl

I was already sitting at the dining table when the door slams open.

He walks in and plops down on a chair diagonally opposite of me, not pushing his chair back to meet the table so he's sitting further away from it as the rest. His elbow is on the arm of his chair and he has his chin in his hand as his slumps against it, looking like he's in thought.

I don't stare at him any longer, my eyes now fixated on the filled plate beneath me. Fresh vegetables and perfectly grilled meat, but not even this gives me an appetite.

I don't dare to look him in the eye. I don't know if I'm more scared of his reaction, or mine. I've never let myself go like that. I'm someone who tries to treat everyone with kindness and patience and today I went against one of my most important moral standards.

I don't know why I let him have so much control over me. But if this is how he makes me act after less than a week, I can only imagine how I'd act when we are wed.

He brings out this hidden dark side in me. He makes me loose control and makes me go against what I stand for. He brings out the worst in me, why can't mother just see that?

One of our servants (we have over a hundred) goes to take our plates so they can serve our desert. My favourite dish. He want to leave me plate, but I know I won't feel like eating it anyway. "No you can take this actually."

"Was it not to your likings my lady?" He grabs the plate from my spot at the table.

"It was, I'm not feeling so well that's why." I force a smile as I look back at the same spot, where my plate used to be.

When a strawberry cake is put into my line of vision my smile makes place for a real one. I quickly grab my vork, digging in- in a graceful, ladylike way of course, which basically just means in a slow way.

When I rip my lips around the dessert fork I expect the sweetness and strawberry flavour to bless my taste buds, except a strong- way too strong, salt taste explodes in my mouth. I stick out my tong, grabbing my glass of water and downing it, some of it dripping down my chin.

The room goes quiet. I widen my eyes, grabbing my folded napkin and tapping it at the corners of my mouth.

I look up to see Nicholas' eyes devilishly looking at me. The look of his face tells me all I need to know, he is behind this.

I look to the side to see the cook, Mrs Peterson, at the end of the table with the trolley the deserts were on. "Excuse me." I say and leave the room. As I look back once more all I can see is him now suddenly sitting up and enjoying his meal, looking very content.

That vision of him clouds my mind as push open the main doors, I stomp towards the garden and grab a handful of rocks. I hurry my way over to his room and but them inside his pillow and under his mattress. "Sleep well." I whisper with a soft evil chuckle only for me to be heard.

I walk down the hallway as composed as can be, chin in the air and in steady paces. Nicholas, who was just leaving the dinning room, takes a second glance as I walk past him. He probably didn't expect me to recover from that as quickly.

I get awoken from my peaceful sleep by the playing of the piano. It's stationed in the library which is just down the hall. I wonder who's playing. And at a time like that.

I can hear the music perfectly fine from here, I can even hear which keys they're pressing. The music is very fast and dramatic, you can hear they have to play with both hands, but if you told me this were two people playing I'd believe you too because this is so fast paced all the keys are almost pressed at the same time.