The escape
“I won’t marry him!” Kristen screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her cheeks. She ran to the door, pounding her fists against the wood. “Let me out! You can’t keep me locked in here like some animal!” She hit the door again and again until her hands ached. “Please… someone help me…” Her voice broke into a whisper as she slid down to the cold floor, pulling her knees to her chest, shaking with sobs. No one came. No one ever did. Hours passed. She cried until her body gave up and sleep took over. A soft creak woke her. The door opened, and Josephine, the maid, stepped inside. Her eyes landed on Kristen, who looked like a shadow of herself. Kristen scrambled to her feet. “Please,” she begged. “You have to help me get out. I’ll do anything. I can’t stay here. I can’t marry that man.” Josephine didn’t speak right away. Her face was full of pity, but her hands trembled as she held out a long white dress. “Madam said to wear this, she wants you ready in thirty minutes,” she said gently. “I’ll come back later to get you.” Kristen stared at the dress like it was poison. “No… no, I’m not doing this, I'm not going to meet him.” Her voice grew louder, panic rising. “Tell her I’m not putting that on!” Josephine looked away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, before stepping out and locking the door behind her. Kristen stood frozen. Then, all at once, rage filled her chest. She snatched the dress and tore it apart, ripping the fabric with shaking hands until it was nothing but shreds on the floor. Then she dropped to her knees and cried harder than ever before. “I’m not a doll. I’m not for sale,” she whispered. Her eyes caught the glass perfume bottle on the dresser, and it gave her an idea. She wiped her face, pulled her hair back, and waited in the shadows. When Josephine returned, the room was dark. “Kristen?” she called out gently. A second later, Kristen stepped from behind the curtain and swung the bottle. It hit Josephine’s head making her to drop to the floor. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry,” Kristen whispered, stepping over the maid’s body. “Forgive me. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just want to leave.” Then She ran away, barefoot through the hallway. Her heart pounding, Every step felt like forever. She made it to the gate but it was Locked. Her stomach dropped. “No, no, no…” She turned and ran toward the back garden. There was a tall fence. Too tall. But she had to try. She jumped, trying to grab the top, but instead she slipped and fell hard on her back making her groan, but she stood again. She had to. Her hands were bleeding, and her knees scraped, but she grabbed the fence again. That’s when she heard it. “She’s over here!” A flashlight hit her eyes. Two guards ran toward her. “No!” she screamed, trying to run but they grabbed her arms. “Let me go!” she cried. “Please don’t take me back!” no one listened to her, instead they dragged her inside. Back inside, Carolina waited, eyes full of fury. “You little brat!” she shouted, storming across the room and slapping Kristen across the face. Kristen staggered back, pain stinging her cheek. “How dare you run off like that?” Carolina snapped. “Do you want to ruin everything?” Kristen looked around, hoping—just hoping—her father would speak up. He didn’t. “Do you know how much you’ve embarrassed me tonight?” Carolina snapped “Please, Mother” Kristen whispered. “I don’t want to marry him. He’s dangerous.” Carolina laughed coldly. “I’m not your mother. Stop calling me that.” Kristen’s stomach turned. She already felt alone. Now she just felt… invisible. “You think you have a choice?” Carolina hissed. “We gave you everything you ever asked for. We protected you. And all we asked was one thing.” “It was supposed to be Sophie,” Kristen muttered. “The deal was for her.” Carolina’s eyes narrowed. “My daughter isn’t going near a man like that. You, on the other hand… you’re useful.” Kristen blinked. “So I’m just being used?” “You should be thanking me,” Carolina snapped. Then she turned to Clinton, her bodyguard. “We move the wedding up.” Kristen’s breath caught. “What… what do you mean?” Dad… Please. Don’t let her do this.” she begged He didn't reply to her, he just looked away. “You want to run?” Carolina said, her tone sharp. “Fine. Let’s marry you off before you get any more ideas.” Then she turned to Clinton. “Call him. Tell him we’re ready” Clinton nodded. “We’ll have it done tomorrow. She can cry later.” And Kristen was dragged to her room and locked up again. The next morning came fast. Too fast. Kristen barely slept. Her body ached. Her throat was dry from crying. The door opened and some maids entered. Four of them. “Madam said we must bathe you,” one of them said. “Scrub every inch. You must look perfect for your husband.” Kristen’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.” They didn’t answer. She didn’t fight. There was no strength left. They filled the tub. Scrubbed her skin until it burned. Washed her hair. Combed every strand. After that they rubbed oils all over her body and hair.“She must smell like heaven,” one whispered. “She must shine,” said another. “We will make her flawless.” Kristen sat still through all of it, her face like stone, When they were done, they dressed her in a white dress, it was too tight but she didn't care. She stared at the girl in the mirror. She didn’t look like herself anymore. She dabbed some color on her cheeks, spritz her favorite perfume, and whispered, “You’re still here. They didn’t win.” Her hands trembled as she walked downstairs. Her father stood by the fireplace, looking lost, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t. Carolina and Sophie sat on the couch, all smiles and whispers. Kristen ignored them. She held her chin high. “Don Carlo is here,” Clinton said. Kristen looked up. The door opened. And everything changed.
