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'What a wonderful meal this is shaping up to be,' Whitney thought as she busied herself around the white marble kitchen she stood in. For the last 24 hours or so she had been slaving over each and every detail wanting it all to be absolutely perfect. The menu in which this was all built around was constructed of everyone's favorites and then some leaving no room for any complaints. It was a holiday after all and as a mother it was her duty to make it memorable, perhaps even magical if the universe saw fit. A feat that continued to grow in difficulty with each passing year, especially now that her children were college students and glued to those lovely little handheld devices talking to whoever about whatever. It irked her to no end how distant her little family had grown from each other, never talking only yelling as they all pretened to hate one another, but there wasn't much she could do about it except for trying her best to be there for all of them. Even if that meant she spent most of her time waiting, twiddling her thumbs.
Which was precisely why she had made such a spread this year, giving herself sleep deprivation to pull it off. Practically every inch of their mahogany dining room table was taken up. The amount of food that she had prepared and cooked was far more than her family needed as it was just the five of them instead of the normal twenty or so, but her husband had decided that no other members of their family would be attending. A decision that he had apparently felt to make on his own, something that shouldn't have surprised her but did. Her opinion wasn't needed for most things, but holidays or get-togethers she had always had final say. Idly she feared this was just going to be one more thing her husband took control of, which would leave her with… their home? Even then she wasn't allowed to do anything without running it by him first. Nothing could be done without his okay unless it was something that had to be done like cleaning or house maintenance.
Deciding such thoughts would only sour her relatively pleasant mood, Whitney crossed over to the sink where she went through the motions of drying the dishes she had previously washed. It was a good way to pass the time as she waited on the last two dishes that sat within the depths of her oven. Soon it would be time to eat, where she would hopefully get to spend at least an hour of uninterrupted time with her family. The thought alone warmed her more than the sun ever could. It was weird how much love one person could hold, how that single emotion could cause such elation as well as devastation. As a mother she felt it all in waves. Sometimes she pondered the possibility that her heart was never truly alive until she felt those first little kicks twenty years ago. If only the love she felt then was still around, but being ignored had left her to shrivel up. Today was a good day however, so happiness was all Whitney felt as the oven dinged behind her.
Donning a pair of bright red oven mitts, she carefully first pulled a green bean casserole out before handmade mac and cheese, her son's favorite. Each dish was added to the table filling the last two available spots left. The table that could easily sit ten was now covered in food from end to end, only the strategically placed china plates remained empty. Smiling warmly at her family as they looked at her expectantly, Whitney moved expertly around the table filling each plate with the owner's preferred foods before settling into her own seat sighing. The exhaustion of the day finally weighing on her, but as she met her husband's glare she couldn't help but to smile again.
Tomas was not a small man, he towered over most with both his height and his ego. Built like a linebacker, due to his frequenting the gym, she had briefly thought he would be a problem and yet she had subdued him successfully, drugging his afternoon protein shake had worked better than she thought it would. The only issue she had was dragging him to the table and getting him in the chair, after all she was only half his size at best. In preparation of his raw strength she had gifted him with not only a whole roll of duct tape, but also every belt she could find in his closet. The smoothness of it all had felt like a good omen, as if the universe was giving her the go ahead to finish out her plan. Lipstick still marred his cheek from where she had lovingly kissed him while he slept off the drugs she had given him. Their offspring had been much easier, after all they had never been able to deny themselves the taste of mama's chocolate chip cookies, especially when they had complained of the cafeteria food at college. Probably the most senseible thing her husband had ever done was giving those spolied brats a food allowance, turns out ramen wasn't good enough for them. Now they each sat staring at her from over the tape that covered each of their mouths. Their arms and legs secured to the chair in which they sat and while the children had seemed to settle into their position, Tomas' knuckles were white from how tightly he gripped the arms of the chair he was in. His anger was practically palpable, but Whitney overlooked it with ease as she had been conditioned herself to be unaffected by his moods.
"Isn't this a beautiful meal?" She asked no one in particular as she knew they couldn't answer. "I honestly think I outdid myself this Thanksgiving. Don't you think so honey?"
The food was center staged, the crystal chandelier hanging above the center of the table, as well as the turkey, sparkled brilliantly. It was instant gratification for the hours it took to dust and clean. In fact the whole room had been scrubbed down and shined up in preparation for today. Years of dust and grime that had built up from neglect of use had been washed away for one of her proudest moments. A stage if brillance that was to be used for no more than a moment or so, but to her it was effort well wasted. Uncharacteristically she felt as if she was sitting upon a thrown, her peasants before her pleading for help. The brief day dream pulled a half crazed laugh from her lips causing the others to shoot worried gazes to one another.
His muffled yelling, due to her question more then the pleading looks of their children she knew, caused her smile to spread wider as she slowly filled her own plate. "I guess it is a bit different, afterall its just us this year, but I really wanted to spend the holiday with you all without all of the damn bickering," sitting down with her food she leaned back into her seat, eyes trailing over each of them in thought.
"In light of the holiday I think we each should say what we are thankful for," another smile cracked her features as she waited for a volunteer that she knew wouldn't come. "I guess I'll go first. Let's see… I'm thankful for the husband that absolutely smothers me with his presence, who uses his money and power to run off any and all friends I have ever made. How he controls every little thing I do like I can't think for myself. I'm thankful for my children who ignore every word that leaves my mouth and treats me like shit. I honestly don't know how I would survive without your condescending tones that I'm sure you learned from your father. I'm thankful for this beautiful prison in which I have been stuck in for so long that I no longer remember what it feels like to be out in the world. For the calluses that litter my manicured hands from the cleaning I do day in and day out for you all to trash the fucking place. I'm thanful for being taken advantage of and manipulated by the people I love most. But what I'm most thankful for, what has really made this day... or rather year tolerable, is this amazing meal that I'll get to enjoy in peace and quiet. If you're lucky I'll let you eat too, or maybe you'll just get to look at it. I haven't decided yet."
With those words hanging in the air only accompanied by the soft whimpers of what she assumed was apologies from her children, she locked eyes with her husband before taking a bite of turkey relishing in not only the taste but the look of hatred in his eyes. Perhaps she wouldn't free him at all. Maybe, just maybe, she would leave him there to rot in the castle he had so desperately wanted while she saved herself and repaired what damage had been done to her children as she held out hope that they could still learn how to be decent human beings. Or… maybe… she would feed him the sweet potato pie that sat so delicately on a glass stand in the kitchen. A dessert only he would want to eat as the rest of the family would much rather eat the apple pie, all the while he would ingest a secret ingredient insuring that not only she would be left everything, but that the monster that he was would take his last breath...
And perhaps, that even though her day had been jam packed with things to do, Whitney had managed to break a hole open in the basment floor... one that may or may not be around six feet deep.
Which was precisely why she had made such a spread this year, giving herself sleep deprivation to pull it off. Practically every inch of their mahogany dining room table was taken up. The amount of food that she had prepared and cooked was far more than her family needed as it was just the five of them instead of the normal twenty or so, but her husband had decided that no other members of their family would be attending. A decision that he had apparently felt to make on his own, something that shouldn't have surprised her but did. Her opinion wasn't needed for most things, but holidays or get-togethers she had always had final say. Idly she feared this was just going to be one more thing her husband took control of, which would leave her with… their home? Even then she wasn't allowed to do anything without running it by him first. Nothing could be done without his okay unless it was something that had to be done like cleaning or house maintenance.
Deciding such thoughts would only sour her relatively pleasant mood, Whitney crossed over to the sink where she went through the motions of drying the dishes she had previously washed. It was a good way to pass the time as she waited on the last two dishes that sat within the depths of her oven. Soon it would be time to eat, where she would hopefully get to spend at least an hour of uninterrupted time with her family. The thought alone warmed her more than the sun ever could. It was weird how much love one person could hold, how that single emotion could cause such elation as well as devastation. As a mother she felt it all in waves. Sometimes she pondered the possibility that her heart was never truly alive until she felt those first little kicks twenty years ago. If only the love she felt then was still around, but being ignored had left her to shrivel up. Today was a good day however, so happiness was all Whitney felt as the oven dinged behind her.
Donning a pair of bright red oven mitts, she carefully first pulled a green bean casserole out before handmade mac and cheese, her son's favorite. Each dish was added to the table filling the last two available spots left. The table that could easily sit ten was now covered in food from end to end, only the strategically placed china plates remained empty. Smiling warmly at her family as they looked at her expectantly, Whitney moved expertly around the table filling each plate with the owner's preferred foods before settling into her own seat sighing. The exhaustion of the day finally weighing on her, but as she met her husband's glare she couldn't help but to smile again.
Tomas was not a small man, he towered over most with both his height and his ego. Built like a linebacker, due to his frequenting the gym, she had briefly thought he would be a problem and yet she had subdued him successfully, drugging his afternoon protein shake had worked better than she thought it would. The only issue she had was dragging him to the table and getting him in the chair, after all she was only half his size at best. In preparation of his raw strength she had gifted him with not only a whole roll of duct tape, but also every belt she could find in his closet. The smoothness of it all had felt like a good omen, as if the universe was giving her the go ahead to finish out her plan. Lipstick still marred his cheek from where she had lovingly kissed him while he slept off the drugs she had given him. Their offspring had been much easier, after all they had never been able to deny themselves the taste of mama's chocolate chip cookies, especially when they had complained of the cafeteria food at college. Probably the most senseible thing her husband had ever done was giving those spolied brats a food allowance, turns out ramen wasn't good enough for them. Now they each sat staring at her from over the tape that covered each of their mouths. Their arms and legs secured to the chair in which they sat and while the children had seemed to settle into their position, Tomas' knuckles were white from how tightly he gripped the arms of the chair he was in. His anger was practically palpable, but Whitney overlooked it with ease as she had been conditioned herself to be unaffected by his moods.
"Isn't this a beautiful meal?" She asked no one in particular as she knew they couldn't answer. "I honestly think I outdid myself this Thanksgiving. Don't you think so honey?"
The food was center staged, the crystal chandelier hanging above the center of the table, as well as the turkey, sparkled brilliantly. It was instant gratification for the hours it took to dust and clean. In fact the whole room had been scrubbed down and shined up in preparation for today. Years of dust and grime that had built up from neglect of use had been washed away for one of her proudest moments. A stage if brillance that was to be used for no more than a moment or so, but to her it was effort well wasted. Uncharacteristically she felt as if she was sitting upon a thrown, her peasants before her pleading for help. The brief day dream pulled a half crazed laugh from her lips causing the others to shoot worried gazes to one another.
His muffled yelling, due to her question more then the pleading looks of their children she knew, caused her smile to spread wider as she slowly filled her own plate. "I guess it is a bit different, afterall its just us this year, but I really wanted to spend the holiday with you all without all of the damn bickering," sitting down with her food she leaned back into her seat, eyes trailing over each of them in thought.
"In light of the holiday I think we each should say what we are thankful for," another smile cracked her features as she waited for a volunteer that she knew wouldn't come. "I guess I'll go first. Let's see… I'm thankful for the husband that absolutely smothers me with his presence, who uses his money and power to run off any and all friends I have ever made. How he controls every little thing I do like I can't think for myself. I'm thankful for my children who ignore every word that leaves my mouth and treats me like shit. I honestly don't know how I would survive without your condescending tones that I'm sure you learned from your father. I'm thankful for this beautiful prison in which I have been stuck in for so long that I no longer remember what it feels like to be out in the world. For the calluses that litter my manicured hands from the cleaning I do day in and day out for you all to trash the fucking place. I'm thanful for being taken advantage of and manipulated by the people I love most. But what I'm most thankful for, what has really made this day... or rather year tolerable, is this amazing meal that I'll get to enjoy in peace and quiet. If you're lucky I'll let you eat too, or maybe you'll just get to look at it. I haven't decided yet."
With those words hanging in the air only accompanied by the soft whimpers of what she assumed was apologies from her children, she locked eyes with her husband before taking a bite of turkey relishing in not only the taste but the look of hatred in his eyes. Perhaps she wouldn't free him at all. Maybe, just maybe, she would leave him there to rot in the castle he had so desperately wanted while she saved herself and repaired what damage had been done to her children as she held out hope that they could still learn how to be decent human beings. Or… maybe… she would feed him the sweet potato pie that sat so delicately on a glass stand in the kitchen. A dessert only he would want to eat as the rest of the family would much rather eat the apple pie, all the while he would ingest a secret ingredient insuring that not only she would be left everything, but that the monster that he was would take his last breath...
And perhaps, that even though her day had been jam packed with things to do, Whitney had managed to break a hole open in the basment floor... one that may or may not be around six feet deep.