Ennis wakes herself each morning. She dresses sharply in the clothes provided for and washes her face in the washbin next to her bed. In the hours before her master awakes she organizes his files and cleans his lab tables. She cooks meals with the groceries she purchases on the weekends and watches her master as he eats. Some days he will command her to run his errands with sharp eyes that don’t allow for the possibility of disobedience. The thought of which doesn’t ever cross her mind. Questions run off his slippery tongue and she answers them all while looking at the space between his eyes. She remains stock as he berates her and she does not hide away from his cold fury. Instead she eliminates her mistakes.
She is just a tool.
She deserves nothing.
She sees happiness only when she drives. Children laughing and playing on the streets, families holding hands. She hears happiness only on the warbling songs of the radio, her master does not praise her.
Ennis doesn’t not smile for twelve years.
She wants to smile as she jumps from the hood of the car, knife in hand. Isaac and Miria’s brows are pursed in fright and confusion as her last words to them echo in their ears. So she does smile, quietly, happily, as she stabs the source of all her struggles. She ignores the pain that races through her body, instead thinks of everything she wants to tell her new-found friends, who had, for the shortest window of her life, given her a simple happiness.