Enslaved to Zion

Chapter 19

"Euroah?", calls the voice of my father. "Euroah, wake up, little sleepy head."

I blink a few times before finally opening my eyes. To my surprise, I glance around to see not a fancy chamber of white, but my old room, back on the farm. The warmth of the sun's rays peeps through the aged curtains on the creaky, old paned windows. In the air, floats the scent of Father's coffee. I'm home! My simple room, the quilt that my mother stitched by hand, in the months before I was born, my little wardrobe of colorful clothing, everything is right where it belongs! All is just how it should be. This can't be real! How did I get here? Have I been dreaming this whole time? Has all of this been some strange nightmare? I knew that television, thing couldn't exist in real life!

"Father!", I cry out.

"Rise and shine, little lady! We've got work to do!", he calls back to me.

I throw the covers off and jump out of bed. My feet hit the floor, running for the kitchen, where I just know he must be sitting at the table, sipping on his coffee before the long day of work ahead. My fingers hardly touch the door knob before they yank it open, and the door nearly goes flying off it's hinges. Never have I been so quick to awaken in my short life. The pounding of my bare feet on the floor carries me like the beating of my heart to the calling of my father's joyful humming, and not a trace of the pain I felt before falling asleep remains. Finally, as I end the narrow hallway and cross the threshold into the kitchen, I see him.

"Oh, Father! Where have you been all this time?", I ask, tears streaming down my face, as I throw myself into his arms.

"My dear, sweet girl, what in Symphonia are you talking about? I've been with you along."

"What do you mean, Father? You left me! I've been surviving all alone. They told me you're dead! They took me as a slave, Father! These last few days have been so awful without you! I thought I would surely die too.", I sob.

"Look at me, my darling. I've never left you even once. I've been with you all along, wiping away your tears, just like I did when you were little, my child. You've grown so big, Euroah. I'm so proud of you. You're just like your mother, you know. You're stubborn, strong, resilient. You're going to be just fine. I'll be watching over you just as I always have. Your mother and I can't wait to see all the great things you accomplish, my shining little sapphire. And even if you can't see me, I'll always be there. When you miss me, close your eyes. I'm alive and well, living right here.", he says, tenderly placing his hand over my heart.

"Don't leave me, Father. I'm so scared! I just want to stay here with you.", I beg him.

He holds me close, swaying me back and forth in a comforting motion, as I cry. I realize that at this point in my life, I'm a woman, and still, I'm not. I'm no longer a child, yet I still desperately crave my father's strong, reassuring embrace. I am nearly an adult, but I don't at all feel grown. I need protection, love, and guidance. I'm not ready to take on this huge world alone. My agonizing sobs turn into silent, resigned tears, and he begins to sing to me, the song he wrote for mama, just as he always has, since I was an infant in his arms.

"Be well, be fine, until we meet again. I'm yours, you're mine, our love will never end. You're in my heart, near or far. Be well, be kind, sweet love of mine.", he sings, holding me like a child in his gentle embrace.

I listen to him sing for what seems to be hours, yet only meager minutes, at the same time. I try to fight it, but eventually, peacefully, I fall asleep in his loving arms. The image of my childhood home breaks away into fractals, and each piece flies away like a firefly into the night sky, one by one. Slowly, my father's voice fades into the distance. His smell dissipates into the darkness around me, and I'm now cradled by the swirling abyss. Although he is no more, I am not alone. His warmth still lingers. I still feel his presence, and though I can't see him anymore, I know he's somewhere near, still loving me, still protecting me.

I'm not an animal or a slave. I'm still someone's cherished daughter, just as I always have been. I open my eyes to see the white and gold view of my new bedroom in the manor. It's nothing like the simple comforts of my home, where I grew up, but I can live here. Just as I've made many memories in the place I was raised, I can continue to make more here. My life isn't over, it's simply changed. Deciding to make the best of my situation, I sit up in bed and pull the covers away. Inhale, exhale. Take things one breath at a time, one foot in front of the other. That's how I'll get through life. I put my hand over my heart and close my eyes.

"Thank you father.", I whisper, before heading to the bathroom to start my day.

After taking care of all the usual hygiene things, I make my way straight to the dressing room. It takes me a while to sort through the vast variety of white fabrics, but I finally decide on wearing a dress that almost resembles a sweater with long baggy arms, and a hood on the back. Its knit composition makes it appealing, due to the fact that it should keep me warm, while still being able to breathe. I pair it with some socks that pull up just over my knees and some flat shoes with laces and about a two inch platform. I'm not usually one to use accessories. I dress for comfort, but I pick out a hair clip with a little white bow on it and put it in my hair to keep my side part from falling in my face, as it has a habit of doing.

Wondering what to do now, I hear my stomach begin to rumble. I'm really hungry, but I don't know what the rules are around here. I assume that I won't be making my own food unless I'm put to work in the kitchen at some point, but I've yet to receive any guidance as to what my purpose is for being here. There are probably scheduled meal times, but I need to find out when they are. What should I do in the meantime? Am I even allowed to leave the room? Will I be able to find the dining hall if I do venture to try? Just then, I hear the door open, and rush out to meet whoever it is. Before I make it through the bathroom, I hear Marie's voice call out.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"I'm coming!"

"Well, good morning sunshine! Did you sleep well?", she says, turning to look at me with a big smile on her face.

"I slept like a baby, and yourself?", I reply, as she begins making the bed.

"I slept just like a little pig in a blanket! Are you hungry?"

"I'm so glad you asked. I was just wondering about food.", I sigh with relief.

"Perfect!", she exclaims, clasping her hands together in front of her bouncy chest. "Breakfast will be up shortly. Where would you like to eat this morning?"

Where would I like to eat? Does this mean that I have freedom to leave the room? I suppose I could have that option, but then again, perhaps not. I don't really want to push too many boundaries at the moment. Besides, there are a few places in here that are suitable for eating. She's probably asking me to choose one of them. I haven't had a chance to really understand my place around here, and where I stand here in the grand scheme of things. Maybe soon, I'll test the waters to see how much freedom I have, but for now, I want to make all of our lives easy on us. Pondering her question for a moment, I point in the direction of the arch.

"By the window would be lovely."

"I couldn't agree with you more. The view of the courtyard is spectacular."

"Well, hello there. What kind of shenanigans are the two of you young ladies scheming already?", Elise questions, joining us in the bedroom.

"Oh, nothing but no good, you know!", responds Marie, holding her finger up like a gun and pretending to shoot.

"You got me! Goodbye cruel world!", Elise dramatizes, leaning on the door frame, covering her heart.

I let out a giggle, finding their antics quite amusing, and Elise breaks character to shoot me a wink. Recovering from her fake mortal wound, she walks over to the bed, where she and Marie work together to restore it to it's fluffy glory, chit chatting as they smooth out wrinkles and strategically place pillows. Not feeling like I fully understand their conversation, I decide to butt out, and meander over to the table by the window. Placing both my hands on the marbled surface, I stare out into the vast sea of trees, flowers, and impeccable landscaping.

It truly is a spectacular view. Even from up here, I can almost feel the garden filling my senses. I would love to spend time out there, more than just passing through. Such majesty should be thoroughly enjoyed, every ounce as much as I'm sure its designer intended for it to be. A gentle tapping causes me to turn my attention to the door. As soon as Benny swings the door open, in marches a woman in a black dress with white buttons. A starched, white apron adorns her hips, and she pushes a rolling cart, holding a delightful smelling tray, in front of her. Marie gestures to the table by the window, and the woman parks the cart nearby, greeting me with a solid expression.

"Good morning ma'am. I am Olga. I will be in charge of your meals.", she states matter of factly. "On the menu this morning, we have a poached egg, in a bed of spinach on toast, diced potatoes, and chicken sausage. For your sides, you have yogurt and fresh berries. I have brought orange juice and milk today. Your attendants can serve you coffee or tea."

"Th-thank you.", I utter politely to her, as I reservedly take my seat.

I do not quite know what to think of this woman. She is not inherently warm, like Elise and Marie. It's not that she seems cold or cruel like my master. Her speech is far too rushed for that, her tone too uneasy. She's also not disinterested, like Anna. This woman is confusing. It's just that she speaks a bit too loudly, and her stance is a bit awkward. One may think that she's giving me a stern talking to, but her stiffness seems to be more from nerves than out of dislike for me. She begins setting the dishes out on the table in front of me, and uncovering them to reveal a hot, delectable meal. Leaving her cart behind, she backs up a few steps, and exits without another word.

What a strange encounter. There are so many different people here at Inspiria. No matter though, it's time for me to dig in! Delicious bite after bite, I enjoy my breakfast quietly, lost in my thoughts, while I admire the view from the window. I'm in the middle of biting off a piece of sausage, when I notice a familiar person walking leisurely along a path, his arms tucked behind his back. Even in a crowd of a million men, he would be distinguishable. It's my master and three of the men in black suits. He's followed by a blonde woman, wearing a knee length, black skirt and a white, button down shirt. Her black shoes have high red heels on the backs of them, but incredibly, it doesn't seem to hinder her from keeping with his pace.

He's so far away, yet even from here, I can see that the word handsome is not an adequate word to describe him. I've tried not to look, in fear of making eye contact with him, but now, I'm able to gain a true understanding of his beauty. The heavens did not play fair when they created him, that's for sure. But despite his magnificent shell, he appears solemn. In the midst of his entourage, he looks lost in his own world. From this distance, he doesn't exude the same frigid aura that makes me tremble. His long, but relaxed strides are not the steps of a powerful man who wishes to trample on those around him, but those of a man who walks the earth alone. I can at least relate to him in that aspect.

Just who exactly is this man, and why does he look so lonely?