Cutler 05 - Darkest Hour

the food, especially the bland hot cereal and dry toast.
    "I had Vera make this special for you," she declared, pointing at the hot cereal. "You'll eat and you'll eat all of it. Despite the sin of your being with child, there is the child to think of and protect. What you do with your body afterward is not of any importance but what you do with it now is, and as long as I'm in charge, you will eat well. Eat," she commanded, as if I were her puppet.
    But what Emily said made sense to me. Why punish the child inside me? I would be doing the same sort of thing that had been done to me—weighing the child down with the sins of its parents. I ate mechanically while Emily watched, waiting to be sure I swallowed every mouthful.
    "I know you know," I said, pausing, "that Niles is not the father of my baby. I'm sure you know how much more terrible this really is."
    She stared at me for the longest time without speaking and then finally nodded.
    "The more reason for you to listen to me and obey. I know not why it is so, but you are a vessel through which the devil makes his way into our lives. We must shut him up within you forever and give him no more victories in this house. Say your prayers and meditate upon your deplorable state," she said. Then she picked up my tray and carried my empty dishes from the room, locking the door behind her again.
    Day one of my new prison sentence had begun. I shrank back into my small room which was to become my world for months and months. In time I would know each and every crack in the wall, each and every spot on the floor. Under Emily's supervision, I would clean and polish and then clean and repolish every piece of furniture, every inch of space. Papa dropped off his bookkeeping work for me every few days, as he had promised, and Emily, with reluctance in her face, brought me books to read as Papa had commanded. I did my needlework and made some fine pieces to hang on my otherwise naked walls..
    But I took the greatest interest in my own body, standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom and studying the changes. I saw how my breasts and nipples grew larger and how my nipples grew darker. Tiny new bluish blood vessels formed in my bosom and when I ran the tips of my fingers over them, I felt new tingling and felt the fullness that was developing. My morning sickness continued well into my third month, and then suddenly stopped.
    One morning I woke up feeling ravishingly hungry. I couldn't wait for Emily to bring me my tray and when she came, I gobbled everything up in minutes and asked her to bring me more.
    "More?" she snapped. "Do you think I'm going to run up and down the stairs all day to satisfy your every whim? You'll eat what I bring and when I bring it and no more."
    "But Emily, it says in Papa's medical book that a pregnant woman is often hungrier. She has to eat enough for two. You said you didn't want the baby to suffer for my sins," I reminded her. "I'm not asking for myself; I'm asking for the unborn child, who surely craves and needs more. How else can it tell us what it needs except through me?"
    Emily smirked, but I saw that she was reconsidering.
    "Very well," she acceded. "I'll bring you something more now and see that you get extra portions of everything from now on, but if I see that you are getting fatter and fatter . . ."
    "I'm bound to gain some weight, Emily. It's only a natural part of things," I said. "Just look in the book or have Papa ask Mrs. Coons." Once again, she reconsidered.
    "We'll see," she said, and left to get me more food. I congratulated myself on my success in getting Emily to do something for me. Perhaps I had been somewhat conniving, but it felt good. It gave me the most pleasure I had had for months and I found myself smiling. Of course, I hid my smiles from Emily, who still hovered about, watching me suspiciously at her every opportunity.
    Late one afternoon long after she had brought me my lunch, I heard a gentle knocking on my door and went to it. Of course, it was still locked so I couldn't open it.
    "Who is it?" I asked.
    "It's Tottie," Tottie replied in a loud whisper. "Vera and I been worrying about you all this time, Miss Lillian. We don't want you to think we didn't care none. Your papa told us never to come up here to see you and not to worry about you none, but we do. Are you all right?"
    "Yes," I said. "Does Emily know you're here?"
    "No. She and the Captain is out of the house right now so I chanced it."
    "You'd better not