Blood & Ivy

17 years.      It's been 17 years since she came to this Hell, and today she should be free. Should being the key word, because if she knew those bastards in the rest of the house, just because it's her 18th birthday doesn't mean they would let her go without a fight. As she stared at her obnoxiously extravagant ceiling, being awake for several minutes already, the dread of getting out overpowered her excitement. Today was the day she had been waiting for, but she knew it would be a bigger pain than she figured would be worth it. Sure, the idea of getting out of this prissy, empty mansion was what kept her going all these years. But she feared that the Mistress would never let her go. Regardless if that was the agreement. She sighed, and slid out of the 4 poster bed in her room.     Starting the routine that was engrained into her since she was only a year old, she headed to her vanity and filled the porcelain washing bowl with the fresh water the servants placed there when they opened the curtains to wake her this morning. She washed her face, neck, and underarms with the luke warm water before drying herself on the small towel beside the bowl. She then looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror; her fair skin almost matched the shade of porcelain that now held the water that left the dewy glow upon her face, contrasting with her intense emerald green eyes which held an icy look that came with the years and "training" she's endured. Her waist length auburn hair fell into tight, messy curls all over her head, almost giving her a crazed look from sleep which she always found suited her better than the large coiffures she was made to wear. Quickly running her hands over the mass of curls, she headed towards her armoire to start the taxing process of getting presentable. She readjusted her chemise, which she usually slept in without a nightdress and without the knowledge of the Mistress, otherwise she would have her head for "sleeping like a harlot and being so exposed", and none of the servants exposed her either as she had made a point of getting to know them and treat them as people, not as trash beneath her. She couldn't help sleeping like that, to be without the constraints she was forced to wear daily, gave her just a few hours of freedom.     She found her dress that was made of a simple white cotton with blue, floral embroidery all along the low neckline and layers of the train down the back over layers of underskirt. Grabbing her corset, which she despised with a fiery passion but knew better than to forego such an important article of clothing around the Mistress, she dressed for what would hopefully be the last breakfast in the nightmare mansion she resided in. After what seemed like ages, her dress and hair were presentable in a simple up-do that still showed elegance. She made her way out of her room, and down the grand marble staircase with a carved wooden handrail. As she trailed her hand down the rail, she watched the engraved people dance with each step. She remembers being 6 years old and spending hours playing on the stairs, creating names and dances for the people she saw and amazed at how beautiful they were. Back then she still had a slight innocence and freedom in believing the world was a fascinating place and needing exploring. She frowned slightly at the thought of how naive children are, how she was.     As she landed on the bottom step, she noticed the smell coming from the dining hall; peach tarts. She smiled briefly; the kitchen staff knew that was her favorite and wanted to make them for her special. She turned the corner into the dining hall and inhaled sharply, just like every time her eyes lay on the Mistress. "Good Morning, Josephine. Happy Birthday, dear." Mistress Mary greeted. "Thank you, and Good Morning, Mistress."      Mistress Mary Baker was a sharp woman in her 60s, with a tightly angled face always on show from her black hair being pulled back in a tight coif. She had icy blue eyes which could stare deep into anyone's soul and freeze them from the inside out, which terrified whoever was caught in their gaze. Her small mouth was worn with age, but always held a scowl, adding to the countless wrinkles. Her long neck and tight shoulders from sitting impossibly straight for so many years, added to the feeling of inferiority one feels around her if the icy stare of judgment wasn't enough. Mistress Mary was gorgeous in her younger years, and Josephine wished to have been able to see her smile or laugh just once in the 17 years she lived with her, as to glance at the once highly sought after Mary Baker before she became the cold statue she was now.      "How did sleep find you, Mistress?" Josephine coaxed conversation as she helped herself to the poached eggs and peach tarts. Mistress Mary wasn't one for idle conversation, but Josephine hoped for an entrance to the conversation of her leaving this wretched place. "Dreadfully my dear child. I awoke several times throughout the night with the realization that you would be leaving me today," Mistress Mary responded honestly. Josephine was astounded. She was actually getting to leave this nightmare, and Mistress Mary was actually perturbed by the notion. "I am sorry to cause you such distress, Mistress Mary. I wasn't aware that my leaving would be upsetting in such a way," Josephine replied calmly, trying to hide the shock and emotion from her voice in order to not show weakness as the Mistress has told her these past 20 years. But she was actually going to leave, and Josephine struggled to conceal her joy. She sat a little straighter as she cut into her poached egg, the yolk dripping perfectly down the toast it was perched upon.        "Don't be ridiculous, Josephine. Now that you'll be leaving, a new whining ninny that I have to train will be taking your place within my halls when all I want is peace," Mistress Mary haughtily replied while sipping her tea. What little warmth that had spread within Josephine's chest quickly froze from the Mistress's words. Of course this is what happens when you hope for something outside of what things are, Josephine chastised herself. She knew better, but still hoped against hope. Josephine shook off Mistress Mary's brazen words and readjusted her shoulders. "When should I have all of my things together? I shall like to make it to a hotel before dark," Josephine spoke coldly, allowing all the years of training and lonliness to seep into her short inquiry. She made eye contact with the Mistress over her own tea cup, hiding the slight smirk on her face as Mistress Mary's eyes narrowed at the boldness of Josephine. But Josephine was now a woman, who had endured 2 decades of the ice queen's treatment of her, all while knowing that Josephine will never have a life of her own even once she is gone from Virginia. Josephine had ignored the fact all morning; the only reason she was leaving and able to finally spend her own inheritance was that she is to be married. To a man she has never met, several years older than herself, and in a state she had barely heard of let alone been to; South Carolina.     The man owned a large cotton plantation, and needed a young wife who could help him and provide him with children. 17 years to be made subservient and a breeder, like a dog. Josephine cannot believe that this was the life that her parents chose for her if something happened to them, but yet they did. Their vast wealth added to Mistress Mary's as a payment for a home and "raising to be a true lady" as Mistress Mary Baker always portrayed herself to be. Yet, she was cruel and believed a woman had her duty to a man and this young country so she trained Josephine to be submissive, unfeeling, and undeniably beautiful. These are the things that Misstress Mary believed were what made women desired by men, and would make her the best wife to a man of high society. But that was not what Josephine desired nor cared for. So she gradually learned the game, and created a shield around her heart. If this was how people believed she was supposed to behave, to live her life, she wanted nothing to do with anyone. She was going to take her share of her fortune and run away after making appearances at her husband-to-be's plantation. She wanted to be free; free to walk around without a stay or corset on, free to run barefoot outside when the lush grass is green with spring, to keep her hair long and crazed looking as it billowed in the wind. She knew her plans, and now had the chance to grab them.     Josephine sipped her tea while Mistress Mary eyed her coldy, "The carriage shall be ready to go within the hour. Johnathan will escort you, it'll take you 3 days to reach Charleston and is much too dangerous for a lady to be unaccompanied properly," Mistress Mary quipped. Josephine almost let her fear slip through her icy demeanor. Josephine wanted anyone but him. Mistress Mary thought her son Johnathan was comparable to the King, and sun shone out of his ass. Every girl in Virginia knew better. Johnathan was a monster and a vagrant. He has frequented more than his share of brothels and has even forced himself on several of the poor servant and slave girls. To be accompanied by him was worse than travelling alone. Josephine swallowed and sat up straighter, "Nonsense. I'm sure Mr. Baker has better things to do than escort me to Charleston, when my coachman is plenty. Please Mistress, let him know that no such chore is required of him."     "But it's no chore at all," a slimy voice came from the doorway.     The ladies both turned in the direction of the voice, and there stood Johnathan. He was a soldier, stationed close to home thanks to his mother's influence. He matched his mother in terms of looks, only where her icy eyes looked on with judgement and disgust, his appeared to be undressing whomever fell under his gaze as if everyone was prey to his deepest desires. Mistress Mary held her hand out, "Ah my dear Johnathan. Come say hello to your mother." Josephine almost shivered visibly as his eyes fell upon Josephine as he crossed the room, before planting a kiss on his mother's outstretched hand. "Good Morning, Mother. And Happy Birthday Miss Josephine," Johnathan cooed in his best attempt to sound gentlemanly, but instead makes the bile rise in Josephine's throat. Yet she was trained better than to let it show, and plastered on a smile as she has had to do so many times before. "Thank you, Mr. Johnathan. It's so kind of you to acknowledge," she gritted out. Unfortunately, Johnathan took that as a sign of interest and tried to smile seductively. "It's no trouble at all. It's a day we've all been looking forward to," as his eyes slide down Josephine's small frame. Her large bust heaved shallow with unease, too disgusted to say anything more so she just gave a small bow of her head, before she focused on a peach tart. The warm pastry shell and sweet filling enough to keep her from losing her calm demeanor, the flavor exploded in her mouth with each bite.     Mistress Mary kept her eyes on her son, "Now Johnathan, are you ready to escort the young Miss McCallum to the hotel today? The carriage should be ready soon for the two of you." Josephine dazed out quietly while the mother-son continued to exchange. Her tea and tart were quickly gone, when she asked to excuse herself in order to finish the last of her packing. As she made her way out of the dining hall, she tried to calm her heart. Then she quickly ran up the stairs into the security of her room, where the door was swiftly locked. Placing her hands on her chest, she closed her eyes as she leaned on the doors. She held in her fear and nausea as she focused again; she would be leaving today, even if it was with the horrible sack of skin Johnathan. "I am Josephine Margaret McCallum. I have been raised in this hell hole for 17 years, I can handle 3 days with that ass!" she whispered to herself. She now stood more determined, and quickly moved the distance to her armoire so she could pack what few dresses she would take with her. Josephine was done packing, not allowing herself to bring any of the dresses that are connected with any of the horrible memories within the 17 years of being here, which left her with a sparse wardrobe. All would be replaced once she was... she couldn't complete that thought, she didn't want it and wouldn't allow it.     She straightened her shoulders, grabbed her bag and marched out of her prison bedroom. At the bottom of the grand staircase stood Johnathan and Mistress Mary. Josephine knew there would be no long or sad good-byes by either party, so the emotions she carried were easy to hide. “Good-bye Mistress Mary. Thank you for the knowledge you've bestowed upon me these past 17 years,” she phrased the words carefully and without emotion, just as she was taught. She bowed her head and curtsied slightly, as a physical touch such as a hug was forbidden. Mistress Mary slightly bowed her head in return, “Thank you dear child, you'll do to remember your lessons well. I hope you and your future husband have a successful life ahead of you.” Josephine knew that was as close to a loving gesture as she would ever get, so she turned and walked out the door without any acknowledgment to Johnathan. She knew he would follow; he always did.     She handed her bags off to the footman and headed into the carriage. She straightened her skirt; she was nervous. Not for her husband or for leaving, but being in the confined spaces of the carriage with that vagrant. Johnathan entered and signaled for the footman to start the journey, and the carriage moved with a jolt that made Josephine lean forward in order to catch herself, and her bust pushing in front of herself. Johnathan's eyes immediately looked and a sick smirk grew across his lips. Josephine quickly adjusted her traveling cape, hoping to cover what bit of skin she could and turned out the window. The beautiful southern landscape sprawled in all directions; the magnolia trees in bloom and covered in the light of the early spring sun. There were honeysuckle vines growing wildly, filling the air outside with their beautiful scent. The rainy season was just starting, so there was some puddles along the road. Josephine hoped that the heavy rains would hold off long enough for them to arrive in Charleston. She didn't want to delay arriving any longer than needed. The rocking of the carriage slowly eased her body, which eventually eased her mind and she drifted off to sleep.