Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale (12 page)

1

Cindy’s night
was filled with sleeplessness and unsettling dreams.  Aside from the same dream
that the heavens shared with her about her mother and the demon, many other
strange visions kept her awake through the night.  Despite what Amanda had
commanded of her, it was hard for her to keep the sick ideas of her father’s
death from her mind.  How could she continue to act the same around the people
who had conspired to kill her beloved father?  How was she to serve them when she
wanted only to spill their blood?  She trusted Amanda deeply and believed her
words.  She, however, was unsure of how long she could hold off without
revenge.

Cindy awoke to
the gentle touch of a hand caressing her face.  When she opened her eyes, there
was no one there.

Hearing a loud
pounding on her door, Cindy raised her head to see the sun shining through the
curtains.  Amanda had told her not to come out until morning no matter what her
sisters said to her, but since she saw that the sun was indeed up, she might as
well rise.

Walking in
front of a dirty mirror on her way to the door, Cindy stopped to examine her
hair.  She had almost forgotten that she had cut it – and why had she been asked
to?  She stared curiously, wondering how long it had been since she'd
recognized herself, until more pounding on the door shook her from her
thoughts.

“I’m coming!”
she yelled in disgust, finally going to the door and unbolting the lock.

She was
greeted by the two distressed faces of her sisters, whose expressions quickly
changed to horror and confusion when they saw her hair.

“What have you
done?” Charlotte asked in alarm.        

“I cut my
hair,” she replied simply. “You have a problem with that now?”

“Well–I,” Charlotte
sputtered, but was halted quickly with a shake of Isabella’s head.

“This is not
what we have come to say,” she said urgently.  “You must come with us to
mother’s room immediately.”

“What
happened?” Cindy inquired, knowing that something was wrong.

“It’s not as
though you care, but mother has fallen dreadfully sick overnight.  She’s
vomiting constantly and you simply must come with us now!”

Sick? 
Serves her right.

Cindy followed
the two girls without questioning, more curious than anything about what could
have happened to their mother.  She had seemed fine the day before.

As soon as
Cindy entered the room, she could smell the sickness.  The putrid stench of
vomit was in the air.  Isabella and Charlotte refused to enter therein, afraid
they might soon catch it themselves.  Anna was lying in her bed and unmoving
when Cindy entered, her fair skin clammy with sweat.  The woman’s eyes were
swelled and fever was upon her – there was no doubt.

Cindy shook
her head in fear of the illness and turned back to the door that her sisters
had shut on her.

“I don’t know
what is wrong with her,” she insisted, pushing on the door to get out.  She was
no doctor, and she had no desire to catch this plague herself.

“Well stay in
there until you do!” ordered Isabella, holding the door closed.

“What’s going
on?” came a voice.  Cindy heard the voice through the door as she pressed
against it, and likewise Isabella and Charlotte turned their heads to see the figure
that approached behind them.  Amanda had swooped down from the stairs, a long
dressing gown trailing behind her.  She looked too beautiful for this time of
morning, and Isabella felt suddenly outdone.  She held her nose a little higher
and stood her ground.  This stranger did not need to be involved in their
business.   

“Our mother
has fallen ill,” Charlotte blurted anyway, truly concerned.

Isabella stood
without a word, clenching the doorknob behind her back.

“Let me in to
see her,” Amanda ordered.

“Cindy is
tending to her,” Isabella insisted firmly.

Amanda flashed
her black eyes at the girl.  “Cindy knows nothing about medicine.  I have some
experience with nursing and I would know better than she does about what is
wrong with your mother.  Surely you can understand that.  Didn’t your own
mother once do some nursing herself?”

They stood at
a confrontation for several moments, eyeing each other carefully, but it was
eventually Isabella who felt a weakness in her legs and backed down.  She
stepped from the door with an evil glare and allowed the woman to enter. 
Amanda did not waste time opening up the infected room, walking in to take a
good look at the woman. 

“Don’t touch
her, Cindy,” she ordered, but there was not much fear of Cindy doing so.  She
kept herself pressed against the wall beside the door.

Amanda felt
Anna’s forehead where the hair was plastered to her face, noting the look of
her eyes.  After a moment, she turned back to Isabella. 

“This woman is
very sick.  I am not sure what is wrong with her.  I have never seen such
sickness come on so quickly.  I will need you two to go and fetch the doctor,”
she said.

“Why can’t
Cindy do it?” whined Charlotte, clearly more concerned for her own feet than
for her mother’s health.

“This is your
mother
!”
Amanda said in disbelief.  “Besides, I need Cindy here to aid me – unless you
two would rather do that.”

Isabella shot
a sharp look at her sister.

“Let’s go,”
she instructed, hurrying Charlotte out of the room.

“Get the
doctor here as quickly as possible!” Amanda called after them.

Cindy watched
her sisters leave and then slowly approached the bed, taking care not to come
too close.  Anna certainly looked ill and Cindy knew that if she caught it
herself, no one would bat an eyelash to watch her die.

“What would
you have me do?” Cindy asked Amanda, wondering what the woman had in mind.

The woman
looked back at her with a shine in her dark eyes.  Her lips curved slightly
into a smile.

“I would have
you to sit and listen,” she said, motioning for her to sit on the bed’s end.

“But – the
sickness,” Cindy stammered. “Is it even safe for us to be in the same room?”

Amanda
chuckled at the girl’s concern.  “The illness that has fallen on your
step-mother has no contagious germ,” she explained. “It is an old illness,
brought on by hatred and the use of an
infected
item.”

Cindy’s eyes
rounded as she wrapped her mind around what the woman was saying.

“A curse?”
questioned Cindy. “You have done this?”

Amanda raised
her hand and ran it across the sick woman’s face, causing her eyes to close and
sending her out of consciousness.  Amanda turned to Cindy with a look of
worry.  The girl felt that bad news was soon to follow.

“Last night I
had a disturbing revelation,” Amanda began.

Cindy took
this time to sit on the bed as she had been instructed.

“I asked the
forces for confirmation of my plans.  The answer I received was quite
distressing.  They spoke in tongues I didn’t know, yet I understood them.  They
made a prophecy that, unlike my first, cannot be altered.  I am profoundly
afraid – for
you
.”

“What did they
say to you?” she asked cautiously, likewise afraid of the answer.

Amanda took a
slow and steady breath. “They said:  After a joining of troubled souls, eight
of the living shall be of the dead.  One shall die a public death; three shall
die of a strange illness; two will die together on the road; another shall be
cast into the fire.  The other will die by his own merit.  So shall it be.”

Cindy
considered the words of the prophecy, already thinking that she was seeing one
of those deaths before her. 

A strange
illness...

“What does it
mean?” Cindy asked in curious fear.

“It means to
be on your guard, Cindy.  Watch yourself, but keep a closer watch on young Mr. Charming. 
I feel a dark disturbance gathering around him – and fear for his life.”

“There is no
way to know who it will be that dies?”

“I asked, but
the forces would not reveal it to me.  I am afraid we are on our own,” Amanda
said regretfully. “What will be, will be.  You must remember this.”

Cindy nodded
at her words, looking at the sick woman on the bed.  Amanda had assured her
that the illness was not contagious, but after hearing those words, Cindy was
not so sure of it.

Three will
die of a strange illness…

“Go and fetch
a bowl of warm water and a rag for her head.  We must keep up appearances until
the doctor arrives.”

Amanda cast
her eyes down with no emotion, looking at the sickly woman as if she was no
more than a pestilence that was being stomped out.

“I do believe
that this will be death number one.”

2

Christian had
not slept at all.  After the party was over and all the guests had trailed off
into the night, the young man had paced the floor, smoking within his room with
closed windows even though he was not allowed, indulging in a flask of brandy
to aid his thoughts.  Many times, he headed for the door, but not once did he
go out.

I’m going
to her
, he thought. 

No, she
doesn’t want me to
. 

He rubbed his
eyes until they were red and dark.  He sighed so many times that he felt dizzy
for all the air he expelled.  He sat.  He stood back up.  He deliberated for
hours and drank and smoked.

Now, in the
early light of morning, he was angry.

How could
Cindy do this to him?  Perhaps that was simply the sort of girl she was – one
who appeared as a tease to rip the heart from his chest and vanish into the
night, never to be seen again.  That was what it felt like to him.  She was
gone, and possibly not thinking of him at all, and yet here he was, finding
himself traumatized by her leave.  A man should not have to feel this way - not
over a woman! 

He threw the
bottle against the wall where it burst into shards.  The small amount of
remaining liquid splashed out, staining the wall and floor.  How could he
possibly escape her?  How?  And what was the van Burrens’ excuse for treating
the girl so terribly?  He’d seen her room, shut away in the attic, separated
from everything else.  Surely it was them who had made the girl so afraid. 
They had kept her from him. 

If he could
not have what he wanted; they would not have what they wanted either.

Having heard
the bottle smash, Samantha came up from bed in her dressing gown, opening her
son’s door to see what the disturbance was.  She saw the broken glass and the
dent in the plaster.  She saw how her son was pacing and smoking so intensely –
so uncharacteristic of him.

“Christian! 
What on
earth
?” she scolded in confusion.  

The young man
looked at his mother, just noticing that she was there, breathing heavily in
his torment.  He looked straight into her eyes, and she shivered to see the
ungodliness therein.

“I’ve made my
decision,” he rasped.  "I'm ready to choose."

3

“I’m afraid I
cannot tell you what is wrong with her,” said Doctor Jameson after he had
looked Anna over. “The fever is most assuredly upon her and I see she is very
weak, though I am not sure what has caused her illness.  I’m afraid it is
possible she may not last much longer.”

They all stood
in the front parlor, listening to the doctor's news.  Charlotte looked down
with a solemn face while Isabella held her breath and looked into his eyes.

“I have
assigned her medicine that should be given to her every hour,” he said, his
full attention directed to Isabella and Charlotte.  “I do not know what illness
has stricken your mother, ladies.  For now, this is all I can do.  However, you
are lucky to have Miss Jefferson staying in your house.  Amanda is an old
friend and able nurse,” he said, motioning towards the woman. “She has agreed
to stay and tend to your mother until I can return tomorrow.”

“Thank you,
doctor,” said Isabella somberly.

“Yes, thank
you,” Charlotte copied.  Jameson nodded his goodbye and left the house.

“Well, you
heard the doctor,” Amanda said to them after the door had closed.  “It’s best
that you both stay away from the room, lest you become sick as well.  Come
along, Cindy.”

Isabella and
Charlotte had no words in their mouths for this, and Cindy followed Amanda up
the stairs and back toward Anna’s room. 

“How is it
that you know Doctor Jameson?” Cindy inquired quietly.  “Was he concerned in
the business you said you had come to town for?”

“My only
business in this town is
you
, Cindy,” Amanda told her, stopping on the
stairs and offering her a smile.  The girl was chilled by it.  “I actually
don’t know the doctor at all.  I simply put it into his head that we had met.” 
She laughed, and the sound was clear and nearly too beautiful.  “I’m not
actually a nurse, and yet better all the same.”

They had
reached the door of Anna’s room, and Amanda turned to her directly.  “You go on
and have some rest.  I will take care of all this.”

Amanda then
went hastily into the woman’s room, closing the door behind her so that the
sickness would not get out, leaving Cindy standing there, aghast. 

4

Below in the
parlor, Isabella sat down on the settee and Charlotte followed her, a lost lamb
who could not function on her own.

“What will
happen to us if mother dies?” asked Charlotte, a tone of worry in her voice.

Charlotte’s
voice was teetering on the verge of tears, but Isabella’s was firm and dutiful.

If she
dies, it will not change anything.

“I shall marry
Christian, of course,” said Isabella, perhaps a bit coldly, “and her plans for
that will no longer matter.”