Debt
Start writing here…This is the story of a man’s daughter. The man wasn’t rich or special in any way. Actually, he was very sick. In fact, he seemed to grow sicker by the day. Belle, his daughter, was very beautiful, and was the talk of her village. Her father wanted her to marry, but she cared only for him. She was afraid to marry because of a dark secret, and she knew if she was found out, she would be shamed, tortured, and finally, killed. She was terrified of this, so she stayed away from the men in the village.
One day, in her seventeenth year in late fall, Belle got up to find her father shaking, which wasn’t new. The look in his eyes, however, was. She didn’t cry. She couldn’t. She had to be strong.
“Belle,” her father said softly. “Saddle the horses. We’re going for a ride.”
“Yes, Papa,” she said obediently.
They were soon trotting through the forest without talking, the air of death heavy upon them. This would be his last ride, they both knew. Belle sat there, looking blankly at the ground. She couldn’t believe she was about to lose her father. She took a deep breath and looked up, ready to tell him how much she loved him, but he was gone.
“Papa?” she asked.
She was met with silence. She looked around frantically. She searched for hours before his horse came back to her. She met its eyes and growled for the animal to show her where he was. The horse obediently led her to an enormous, deserted castle. She walked in hesitantly, looking around. A fit of coughing had her running into what looked to be a parlor. Her father was on the floor, looking quite ill. She knew this was it. She knelt by him, refusing to cry.
“It’s okay, Papa. I’m here. I love you.”
“Belle,” he rasped. “I love you, too. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Belle considered telling her father her secret, but, as his eyes started to dim, she didn’t want him to go with the thought of his daughter being a monster, so she made the decision to stay silent. She held his hand until he was gone, staring blankly at the body that remained. She still didn’t cry. She felt numb, actually.
The girl fell asleep on the couch, resolving to wait to bury her father. She awoke in a soft bed, her shoes and socks off with blankets snuggled up to her chin. She sat up, looking around. Where was she? Who had moved her? It couldn’t have been her father. He was…yeah.
She stood and padded through the mansion, looking around to see the dark fixtures and statues. There was silence around her. She swallowed nervously as she heard voices. She crept over to the door and peeked in through a slit.
Inside the room, which was the parlor from earlier, she saw an enormous silhouette of a man. He was talking to what looked like a small candelabra, the flames flickering gently. The strange thing, though, was that the candelabra, and what looked to be a clock, were talking back. She inhaled sharply and the man turned abruptly to look at her. It wasn’t a man at all. It was some kind of beast! She backed up as he stalked forward, ripping the doors open.
“Why are you here?” he growled, his voice grating.
“My father came in here for reasons I don’t know.”
“The dead man on the floor?”
“Master!” the candelabra gasped.
Belle stood tall. “Yes. And if you would be so kind as to help me bury him, I will be in your debt.”
“You would…Would you stay here with me forever?” the Beast asked eagerly.
Belle paused and thought about that. She had nothing left where she came from. Marriage was inevitable now that her father was gone, and there was her secret…She had nothing to lose.
“Yes.”
“Done. Lumière, call the shovels!”
An hour later, the grave was filled in, and Belle stood, clothes, face, and hands filthy, though the shovels had done most of the digging. Still she didn’t cry. The Beast had stood back, watching her. He came forward, grabbing her arm.
“You are filthy. Go shower and put on a nice, clean dress then meet me in the dining hall for dinner. Lumière will lead you.”
The candelabra bowed and hurried her back to the room she had been left in. She scrubbed herself clean, the hot water doing nothing to relax her, then put on a soft purple dress. The candelabra watched her silently for a while then finally spoke.
“You are very beautiful, ma chérie,” he said with a nod.
“Thank you,” she said listlessly. “Where’s the dining hall?”
“This way.”
She came into a huge hall with a long table. The Beast stood over by the fireplace, staring into the depths of the flames. Lumière cleared his throat.
“Master, she is ’ere.”
The Beast spun to look at her, taking in her soft appearance.
“You are very…beautiful.”
“Thank you.” It was said in the same dull tone. The Beast noticed, but didn’t comment. The girl had just lost her father, after all.
“Come, sit, eat.”
She obeyed, enjoying as best she could. There was no conversation. The Beast was at a loss for what to say to such a fair creature, and Belle was feeling her own loss. She finished and walked back to her room behind Lumière, who hopped up on her bedside table.
“Chérie? Are you alright?”
“I don’t know. It should hurt, but…I knew it was coming. He never got well, not in ten years. Yes, it went, but it always came back, worse than before. This time was…horrible. Beyond everything else, by far. I knew he wouldn’t last.”
“What did ’e ’ave?” Lumière asked softly.
Belle slowly lowered herself down to the mattress, her eyes blank of anything.
“Heartbreak, amongst other things. My mother fell to her death. We moved, but the past haunted him. I think that’s why he got it.”
“Got what?” the candelabra was truly curious.
“I don’t know. Neither of us did. We had no money to find out.” She was crying now. “But I think it for the best. He was so sick, in so much pain…And now I live here. With somebody as soulless as me.”
Lumière knew that the conversation was over. He didn’t dare agree or disagree with a comment like that. He snuffed his light, pulled the blankets over her, then bid her goodnight. She raised her head when she was alone then stood. She made sure none of the furniture in the room was alive, then she relaxed, letting out her misery in a long, loud howl.
