Birthright - Juli Harrison

            So close, she could hear the laughter, smell the perfume, see the twinkling lights. And yet, it was all so far away. Through the window she watched the swaying taffeta skirts, the polished shoes sliding across the floor.

            Shivering against the frosted edge of the night, she peered at the people inside. Strains of music teased her ears, note by note. She could never hear the whole song. Only a clear pane of glass separated the girl from what she considered to be pure bliss. Suddenly, a woman yelled shrilly, her voice abruptly piercing the evening, making the girl flinch guiltily. She was neglecting her duties.

            Scrambling to the rear of the building, the girl struggled with the door, her fingers too stiff to open the latch. Finally, the door swung open, announcing her entrance with a resounding squeak.

            Anxiously, the girl flew around the kitchen as if she had been busy the entire time. Her eyes darted quickly about for the source of the woman’s voice that had so startled her earlier. As the girl reached for an ornate silver platter to immerse in the hot water, she heard the feared voice drawing near. The tantalizing strains of music faded away as the girl was engulfed by a silence louder than anything she had ever heard.

            The dreaded woman approached, every step of her new shoes, every swish of her new dress, an excruciating reminder of society’s cruelty. The girl would never wear such things, never have such power. An apron and a tattered rag were the girl’s attire for life.

            Born of impoverished blood, there stood no chance for this girl to ever wear such a taffeta gown or those new shoes, so fashionable they pinched. A mere name condemned this girl to the kitchen of the woman. Everyone knew the girl’s family had no money. There would be no chance for her to marry either, unless her father could miraculously produce a suitable dowry.

            The girl knew that the rest of her life was to be spent helping the wealthy further enjoy their lives, ready to perform any task at any time. Yet in those few moments when she could peer through that window, hear that music, and watch those people, she could almost believe that she too was a part of that life.

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