The strange velvet bag

As Essie entered the main hall after checking her name off the guest list, she felt a pang of insecurity. She had just moved to this town a month ago and was only familiar with the baker, the neighbor upstairs, and the housemaid. She took a deep breath and finding an empty-looking table, sad down and took her mink shall out.1

“Were you sitting here, Madam?” Asked a deep male voice. Essie jumped and turned her head toward the noise. It was a boy, about sixteen. He was dressed in an elegant silk with a red carnation on his breast pocket. 2

“I can move if you want me too…” Essie said with a little too long of a delay.3

“No, no please stay!” He said with a dashing smile. “You see, I have a little favor for you! What’s your name?”4

“Elizabeth Maybell” Essie replied, with a sharp voice. 5

“Well, Elizabeth, do you see that man over there?” He asked, with his head tilting to a man on the edge of the dance floor.6

“Yes, the one in the white, I see him.” She said, a little smart.7

“The man, whom Essie had read his name plate as John Maze, motioned his finger to move in closer. Whispering his deed that needed to be done, he dropped a heavy purple velvet sack in her hand. Essie nodded twice and started walking towards the mysterious man in the corner.8

Essie saw her reflection in one of the many decorative mirrors around the room. John was right, she did look attractive tonight. Her corset pressed her sides inward in just the correct places. The stunning royal gown she had picked out earlier flowed and pooled down to the marble floor. The honey blond colored hair that she grew out to her forearm was curled and pinned up. Her pale skin sparked in the light of the many flickering candles.9

Maneuvering around the dancing couples that seemed to be stepping purposely into her, she finally made it to the other side of the high-ceilinged room. After a friendly introduction and a word or two regarding the weather, he started explaining his situation. This was Essie’s cue.10

As they were holding hands and talking flirtatiously, a young woman with glowing green almond eyes and sophisticated chestnut hair appeared. The unknown woman gasped, the tears starting to flow. Essie looked over to her table, and John got up and started comforting the girl with a small wink. A small jolt of guilt struck Essie’s stomach. She grabbed her shall and headed home.11

When she took off her gown and put on the comfort of a floral house dress. Wishing the guilt would come off with her garments, Essie sighed. With a conspiracy, she threw the velvet bag into the fire. With a roar of sudden aliveness, the fire turned blue, then black, then green and dimmed into nothingness. Nothing was left in the fireplace except the velvet bag, which was now empty and deflated. Feeling alarmed, Essie fled from the room and locked herself in the water room closet.12

“I wish last night would’ve ended differently.” Essie thought allowed. The rest of her memory was a blur.13

When she woke up the next morning, the paperboy slipped her paper in the slot and then ran away quickly, not looking back. When she sat down with her cup of tea, she glanced at the main heading. ‘Last night, Murder struck at Twelve!’ It read. 14

Last night, at the Louisville ball, Elizabeth Maybell, a newcomer to the town, murdered Constanta Jones with a Riverway pistol. Fleeing from the incident, Elizabeth was never caught. If you know anything about this, please drop into the station.15

Essie couldn’t read anymore. Could there possibly be another Elizabeth Maybell at the ball yesterday? Essie highly doubted this possibility. Without skipping a beat, she ran up the stairs to the medicine cabinet. Just as she had thought, the elegant pistol had a cartridge missing. She had been set up…unless she did it in her sleep. Essie considered that for a minute, and then disregarded it.16

Over the period of three weeks, everything went well for teenager Essie Maybell. There was no denying she peered around every corner and got scared in the marketplace at any suspicious glances. While she was out in the foyer, she was greeted by a young man that had large circles under his eyes and looked permanently glum. 17

“You have failed to pay the bills for this month…I am here to repossess your house.” The man said in a mono-tone voice.18

“What are you talking about?” Essie squeaked.19

“Haven’t you got any notifications, Elizabeth?” The old man said nonchalantly. 20

“Wahh? No, I haven’t!” Essie exclaimed, not bothering to correct her name. The two argued on with an occasional foot stomp or a scream of rage.21

After the man left, Essie ran to her room and cried. She had no one to run too. If she had anyone to really open up to, they would become familiar with her and realize that she was behind the killing at the ball somehow. Essie missed her parents tremendously. Surely they would understand. 22

“I wish I had no problems in my life.” Essie said, greedily. With a sudden flash of confusion, the blurriness feeling revisited her.23

“Essie? Essie, sweetie, wake up! I have some crumpets ready and some of your favorite tea warmed.” Said a friendly, perky voice.24

Essie opened her heavy eyelids. Swooping drapes covered the cream windowsills. Warm, illuminating light greeted Essie, the first sign that insured her she was alive and well. She had never been in the room before. Essie saw now where the voice was coming from. It was a tenacious maid. 25

“You have your signing today!” She reminded Essie with a fake excitement. Her tangible thick down sheets were hard to leave, but Essie had to discover this new world.26

“What signing?” Essie asked, glaring at the maid as if this was all a hoax.27

“Did you have a good sleep, Es? IM TALKING ABOUT the signing for your BOOK of course!” Said the maid, with another glimmer of fake excitement.28

“My book…got published? I’m an accomplished writer? But I’m a woman!” Essie argued, giddily.29

“And the only woman out there that can make a livin’ off words.” The maid said, admirably.30

“Oh, I remember now…” Said Essie, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I had a rough night.” Essie said, excusing herself.31

After dressing herself and having her rich breakfast, Essie skimmed over this book that she supposedly wrote. It contained much of her past writing, only on a more prestigious scale. When the line formed outside her house, Essie went through the line quickly. After that hour, she had devised a story that seemed believable. It was a simple rags-to-riches discovery story. The only problem was that this was too perfect. Essie missed her life of imperfections and schemes. She missed new adventures and making her living the old fashioned way. Taking a deep breath, she talked to herself.32

“I love my life. I could live this way forever. I would never wish it away.” She tried convincing herself, and failed. “I wish I were dead”33