Mansion of Caged Dreams

Chapter Two

After that whole fiasco, another girl approached Fran. “Hello, my name’s Adeline.” She held out her hand. Adeline was average looking, brown hair like hers except longer, her hair went all the way to her waist. Fran’s hair was brown and wavy, that only fell down to her chin. Adeline’s hair went all the way down to her waist and had a bit of dirt smudged on her face. She wore a maroon colored dress, with the sleeves and the end of the dress looked torn and worn. Adeline had bright green eyes.
“I’m sorry if everyone’s acting a little weird. Not every day we get guests, you know?”
“Why is that? Dement mentioned it.”
Adeline made a waved her hand dismissively. “Long story. They’re all a bit… terrified. You see your father isn’t the nicest, approachable fellow. Also, a bunch of other reasons, let’s not get into the details.”
“I only came here in hope that I could convince him to give me money. But it was for a good cause, surely you believe education is important.” What could those reasons be, why are people terrified at this place? “Is this place haunted? What could be worse than ghost superstition.” Fran asked. She glanced around.
From behind Adeline, there were three workers leaning against the wall, their hands crossed. No wonder this place is a mess, no one here wants to work. Another dark-skinned, curly-haired woman nearby yelled, “I’d take monsters and ghouls over the truth any day.” At this, a few others with her snickered. The woman was round, her eyelids dropped. The woman held a cigar in between her fingers. At the end of the cigar, there was a glowing orange hue. From here I can smell the smoke. Fran politely covered her nose subtly with the back of her hand.
Is the truth really that bad? Fran wanted to ask, but kept her mouth shut.

All of the three siblings sat down at the dining table, the feast was laid out, from meat to mash potato, even the wild berries looked incredible.
A group of servants passed out drinks, they passed a purple mysterious liquid drink to Fran. Every one of them kept staring at her. Fran got the impression that Adeline was right, no one was used to having guests here. It was such a marvelous mansion, why wouldn’t people come? This question boggled Fran’s mind.
Fran picked up the cup, swished the liquid around as she stared at her reflection.
Fran tapped her fingers against the table. She bit her lip, trying not to gag at the maroon-purple drink, “you wouldn’t happen to know what this drink is?”
Avon shot her a look. “Nope. You should have seen our old kitchen maid’s cooking she was horrid!” Dement exclaimed. Fran felt uncomfortable the longer she was there. To her it felt wrong, she knew clearly that Fran was only a step sister. Fran doubted they would let her stay in such a grand mansion.
The girl she was talking to earlier glared at Dement. “Dement, we don’t talk about her like that. It’s insensitive to those who miss her.”
Fran felt a spark, an opening to a conversation. “What happened to her?”
“You sure do like asking questions. She passed away.” Another situation no one liked to bring up, Fran noted. The only reason I keep asking is because no one ever tells me anything. They must really like keeping secrets.
Fran’s arm grew tired as she reached for the tray of berries the tray was so far. Only the tip of her middle finger could reach it. Fran blushed, she never sat at such a fancy dinner. Fran’s mama wasn’t the type to teach her which spoon was for what. Others noticed her struggle and tried to push the plate closer.
To her surprise, reaching was completely unnecessary; the tray raised up in the air, it floated there, Fran’s hand halted when she saw the floating silver tray. Nobody took their eyes off the tray, it turned up and down like a seesaw, daring the berries to roll off. Suddenly, the tray began to spin rapidly in circles.
No one kept their eyes off of the tray until every berry splattered on the wall and the tray made a large, satisfying clang as it smashed into the wall breaking into nothing more than shattered pieces spread across the ground.
Adeline, the maid, placed her hand on the auburn-stained walls and sighed loudly. Mumbled something about Dement’s room already being a tornado of a mess.
Fran could feel every everyone in the room’s eye staring at her. Why did the strange feeling creep into her mind that it was her fault? Fran couldn’t do something like that if she really put her heart into it.
She became a bright, mortified red, brighter than the berry stains on the wall.
The servants scolded all of them as they washed the walls with soaked rags. Avon just watched their servants work, though he wasn’t paying them just so he could offer help.
The trays shards danced around the ground, Fran looked bewildered. “I've had enough of this nonsense!” Fran yelled. Fran jerked up from her seat, sending the chair flying nearly crashing to servants. All the glass shards pointed to Avon.
“Stop it!” She was now crying. Her face flushed. What did I just say? I’m making a scene, aren’t I?
Avon raised his hands in surrender and he took a few steps back.
“I would if I could,” he shifted his glance to the maid, who stopped scrubbing the walls, and then Fran, “but I'm afraid I'm not even in control. I'm doing nothing as we speak.”
“Not even Dement could cast a spell if she tried. She’s certainly can’t do that, all she can do the animal manipulation.”
Dement wasn’t listening and took more interest in fiddling with her thumbs.
“So there was no way she can manipulate non-animal or living things. You, however, are the source of all the trouble, such problematic actions for one person.” He pointed at Fran.
“That's nothing but the craziness in your head. You don’t actually believe that I could have done something like that, right? I couldn’t have, it’s not possible. I could be heavily medicated now, maybe I caught a fever and this is my hallucinating. There has to be another possibility.” She retorted.
Fran sat in another chair and sighed in defeat. They sat and ate in silence. If only Fran’s mind could remain silent.

After the plates were empty, she ran to the nearest room. Fran found a room labeled Workers’ Dining Room. I’m sure they wouldn’t care if another was to interrupt. The room was empty, not a soul was in there. She swiped away from the few cobwebs on the couch. She slouched down on a couch, “It couldn't have been me.” Stubbornly forced herself to believe this was true.
It was no use. It was far too late to un-see the unknown. Dement’s words about nothing being impossible echoed in her head. It can only be true to some extent, right?
Fran rested on a scratched, beaten up, rickety couch, with an ugly pattern spread across it.
“What are you doing here, this is the Worker’s room. Don’t you understand you caused enough trouble?” Adeline asked.
Fran leaped up from the couch. Fran couldn’t help but feel a sharp sting of guilt,“My apologies, for everything I've done. I just- I just want to get back home, to my real home, I don’t belong in this crazy madness.”
“I-I don’t want you to end up like me, cursed in this mansion all because of an irreversible spell I accidentally did. I made that spell two years ago and not one soul has left this mansion since.” She mumbled something about Avon.
“Is that what happened? Thank goodness, I thought no one would ever explain that to me. I guess it explains the ‘not many guest’ situation.”
“Please, Fran, leave when all the candle blows out,” she yanked the curtains off and opened the windows. Her hands motioning towards the sunset. “Run, while everyone’s sleeping. Try and escape. The maid pleaded.
The maid shook Fran, “Run! Run while you can, before the-”
Avon bursts through the room. “Adeline, what did I tell you. You should have given up a long time ago but instead, you keep making reckless decisions.-” The maid froze, nearly dropping the broom she’d been carrying.
“Thanks for being, so supportive,” she muttered, with a sharp taste of sarcasm. Suddenly the maid turned to Fran, mouthing out the word “Go.”
Fran dusted off her dress, which was a striped dress, with a blue ribbon tied at the waist, nothing too fancy, it wasn’t rags nor an elegant ball gown. Yet Fran loved it. Fran was quite proud of it, it was her mama’s dress. Fran continued to ponder about what’s going on in England, her mama was probably worrying sick. Fran noted that she should write a letter, knowing she would the next opportunity that would be waiting right out the doorstep. However, now was not the time.
Fran dashed from the room, running past the spiraling stairs, shoving the main entrance open. Thankfully she was on the first floor, otherwise, Fran was well aware that she would get lost in there for hours. Then she’d never leave. The thumbing of the shoes matched the pounding of her heart. She nearly tripped.
She traveled through the garden. She tripped and fell through the thorns from their rose garden. She was scrapped, bleeding, and badly bruised.
Her dress is now ripped and muddy.
Fran was sobbing, audible for everyone close by. The two gardeners curiously stopped their work and looked at her.
But to her, escaping was her number one priority. Fran had to, she knew she did after seeing the sorrow in Adeline’s face. After what she warned: ‘it’s been two years. And no one single soul has left." The words kept echoing in her mind. two years, why Fran had all her friends back home, her mama most importantly.
Fran was still unsure why her mama let her go so far away. Tickets were awfully expensive, they weren’t rich, the middle class was a good term to use. And why? To see some man who was supposedly her father? Fran never once met the guy and now she traveled countries away just to see. What an unpleasant way to waste good, hard-earned money.
Either way, Fran never felt more determined, she ran through it all and was standing at the gateway. The tall iron bars were too tall for her to climb over.
She jiggled the door handle until she gave up.
Her heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ear drums. Out of breath, Fran continued to smash the lock with rocks. Her heart was pounding out of her chest, exhilarated by the adrenaline. A voice came behind her that nearly made her jump out of her own skin.
“You really want to leave so badly, huh?”
Avon made himself visible. He was frowning instead of a wicked smile villain like smile Fran was expecting. He almost looked miserable. After a long pause of silence, “I hate to break it to you but no one can leave without magically making a spell releasing you, which that would be a miracle.”
“I just want to get out of here, that girl earlier said that no one has escaped here for two years! I just want to get on the next train to England, I can never see my mama again. She’s the only normal family I got left.” Fran cried.
Avon didn’t say anything for a bit. “A normal family, you say? Alright, let’s make a deal. If you can find a way to escape in a month then you’ll be free and won’t be trapped like the rest of us. And if you don’t then you have to accept the fact that you’re one of us. With powers, no normal could possess. Deal?” The deal seemed harmless, what could go wrong?
“I never mentioned a deal. Besides, I didn’t pack enough for a month. This is urgent. I want to go back to England, understand? That’s it. Nothing else.” She sighed after a long pause. “Besides even if I was going to make a deal with you, Adeline and her family are free to leave. It's the least selfish thing I could do.”
Avon broke his stare, he used his hair as a curtain, exactly what the maid did. “Stop doing that,” He took a long sigh, “Stop talking like everything can happen in a snap of a finger. Do you think anyone wants to be stuck in a mansion, and not be able to see their friends of the family for two years?” he whispered. “You can’t leave,” He paused and sighed. Avon didn’t really seem to believe in the things he said, it looked like he was quoting someone else.
“I’ve been the only one trying to do something about it.”
He lost the intimidation, he became somber and gloomy. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. Once again, Fran was completely puzzled by this.
Should I make a run for it while I can, like what Adeline said? Should I comfort him, I mean we are… family? Nope, that’s a strong term.
Fran touched the spade hair clip. Fran felt a wave of relief to know that it didn’t fall in the rose bushes. Her only pleasant dress was already ruined, ripped from the thorns. Washing mud is a challenge, the dress could be sewn together. Or she could have someone cut off all the torn parts.
He rested under the fountain and stared up at the gloomy sky. He didn’t say anything. For a while. A long, long while.
In the corner of her eye, she could see a figure approaching them. Fran squinted at the figure, Avon followed her gaze and looked over his shoulder. It was Adeline.
Fran fiddled with the hair clip, trying to trace out the shape of the spade. Fran was fascinated in learning everything she could, spending hours and hours in books. The spade, a symbol of wisdom and acceptance. Fran was still trying to work on her own acceptance of how everything was turning out. That her life went from normal to an upside down place that didn’t feel like the same world she had lived in for so long.