Oppressed (26 page)

Tante Celeste’s Home,
Rue de
Rampart

New Orleans, 1853

I lay in bed with large grin
plastered across my face. Bright moonlight flooded through my open
window and brightened the various altars that rested on my dresser
while strange shadows danced on the walls around me. I felt odd. I
realized the word to best describe how I felt was happy. Yes. I was
happy. A few months ago I hadn’t thought it would ever be possible
to feel this way
, but here I was doing and feeling the
impossible.

“
Thank you,” I whispered
to no one spirit in particular. “Thank you for
everything.”

It had been the best day ever. The
Delmonts had won the trial and their son was officially a free man
who had the rest of his life to live. I closed my eyes and listened
to Tante Celeste’s sweet voice dramatically sing. I inhaled the
scent of the sultry floral night air as it melted with the notes
and lulled me into a dream-like slumber. Life was seemingly perfect
and I couldn’t help but melt inside when I thought about what had
happened in the cathedral with Lucus.

“
Sweet
Cecile.”

A familiar and unwelcome voice pulled
me out of my happy place. I shot up and glanced around the
room.

“
Sweet
Cecile. I saw you today at the
cathedral. I saw you kiss my cousin. How can you be so unfaithful
to me?”

My heart stopped and beads of cold
sweat covered my skin. I slowly climbed out of bed and glanced
around the room. “Edmond? Is that you? Where are you? How did you
get in here?”

“
I miss you, Cecile,” said
the voice.

“
Show yourself,” I
demanded, as I lit a candle and tried to search for the
figure.

“
I love you, Cecile. Do
you love me? I don’t think you love me.”

“
Yes,” I lied. “Yes I love
you so much. Let me see you so I can show you how much I love
you.”

A warm breeze blew out the candle flame
and a hand covered my mouth and muffled my scream. “Oh
Cecile.”

And you stood and cried,
"What you want me to say to you?"

Hey, stood and cried, "What
you want me to say to you?"

"I want you t'think 'bout
the things, baby, that me and you used to do."

And then run here, baby,
let's try the other hand

Hey, run here, baby, I said,
"Let's try th'other hand"

I've had a troubled complaint,
God, ever since I been your man”

Edmond’s demented voice
sang.

What the hell was going on? I
struggled furiously against him but his hold was too forceful.
“Let’s get married, Cecile. Marry me.”

I revolted wildly against him as he
held me close to him and lifted me off the ground. His grip became
tighter and tighter until I felt as if all the air had been
squeezed out of my lungs. My eyes closed and my body became numb
and lifeless.

**

My eyes opened and I found myself in St.
Louis Cathedral. With my hands tied behind my back I sat in an
exquisitely carved chair made out of heavy cherry wood. The church
was completely dark aside from the circle of thick black candles
that blazed around me. Their flames rose high and cast a grisly
glow on the marble statue of the Virgin Mary, making it seem as if
she were alive and intently watching my every move.

“
Hello?” I called out.
“Edmond! I’m not afraid of you.”

Edmond appeared before me. Under the
light of the candles his angular face was smooth, cold and
wax-like. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Cecile. I want you
to love me just as you love my cousin.” His voice echoed throughout
the empty cathedral. He took off his top hat and kneeled on the
ground in front of me. When his eyes met mine I could tell that he
was not himself.

“
What happened to you?” I
asked.

“
Don’t be ridiculous, I’m
perfectly fine. I have a present for you.”

“
A present?” My voice
unwillingly trembled.

“
Yes.” He got up and
clapped his hands. Two female slaves emerged from the shadows. In
their hands they held a snow-white wedding dress crafted from the
most luxurious silk and lace. “I have a wedding dress for my bride.
I think it’s about time we make our match official, isn’t
it?”

“
You’re sick,” I whispered,
unable to believe what I was hearing.

“
No. I’m not sick. You’re
mine and now it’s going to be official.”

“
I’m not yours!” I hissed.
“And in case you’ve forgotten you already have a real
wife!”

“
Ah yes, but you see my
dear sweet Cecile you are mine and always will be.”

“
Why do you have this sick
obsession with me?” I asked. He didn’t respond. I examined him
closely for a few seconds. “It’s not me at all, is it? You have a
sick obsession with control and domination. No one’s ever stood up
to you before and the fact that I have is driving you mad, isn’t
it? You can’t stand the fact that I’m not afraid of you!” I laughed
at the realization that I held power. Real power.

He ignored me and to my surprise he
untied me. I attempted to run but he grabbed me before I had a
chance to make my escape. “Dress her,” he ordered.

My satin nightgown fell to the ground and
the slaves came forward. I wrapped my arms around my body
protectively but they were brutally ripped away and my body was
thrust into the wedding gown. My screams were muffled by one of the
slave’s hands as the other laced up my corset strings so tightly
that I swore that I heard one of my ribs crack.

Edmond stood at the end of the long
church aisle and beamed at me as I was thrust forward by the
slaves. Bizarre wedding music started to play and a ghostly
discourse hummed in the background as I was forced forward. I was
seduced into a mesmerizing trance and had to force myself to wake
up.

“
No!” I screamed, as I
tried to unsuccessfully break free from their grasp.

Edmond’s eyes danced as they rested on
me. I stood in front of him and spit on his face.

“
Leave,” he said to the
slaves. The slaves bowed their heads and left without daring to
make eye contact with him.

At this point I should have run for dear
life but my feet were firmly planted on the ground, unable to move,
let alone run.

“
We’re going to be
together forever and forever,” he said as he softly stroked my
cheek and gave me a long kiss.

“
You’re demented!” I
screamed, as I clawed at his face and tried to break free from his
grasp. Tears of defeat slid down my sweaty cheeks as he continued
to kiss me.

“
Say that you love me.
Look at me like you look at Lucus.”

“
I don’t love you and I
never will.”

As I said those words the room started
to spin. The faces of the Saints came alive and seemed to circle me
as they shed tears of blood and thin beads of sweat dripped down
their foreheads.

Vomit slowly built up in the back of my
throat and I wildly convulsed until I fell to the ground. I was
somewhere between death and a dream, caught between that unstable
place that rests in the middle of sanity and madness. I peered up
at Edmond through half-closed eyes. He stood there watching me as
if nothing were wrong at all. A satisfied smirk played on his lips
and I could tell he was taking pleasure in the torture I was going
through.

A pain so brutal took a hold of me and
an intense agony ripped through my stomach as if a thousand razor
sharp teeth were trying to claw their way out of me. Something
within my stomach wildly jerked from side to side and the repulsive
sensation of snakes slithering under my skin become overwhelming.
Fantastical demons, ghouls and shadows surrounded me as tiny baby
cockroaches started to crawl out of my mouth. Moans of anguish
escaped my lips as the thin and slithery tail of a snake started to
makes it way out of my nose. Spasms of pain ripped through me and
threatened to knock me unconscious.

“
Help…” My voice came out in
light gasps as cockroach after cockroach crawled out of me. I knew
what this was. I had been hit with a
Live in you Things
Trick
. This
particular trick was rather gruesome and strictly Hoodoo. It could
be administered through food or laced into clothes. Once hitting
the target’s blood-stream it caused insects and other animals to
grow inside the victim and eat them from the inside out.

“
Edmond, why?” I asked through
wild croaks. “Why? How”

He stood above me with his arms
crossed. “I’m trying to get rid of the disease that rests within
your very soul, sweet Cecile. Once your disease is cured we’ll be
together for forever and forever. This disease has turned you
against me and has made you rebel. It’s made you forget your place
in the world and I’m here to help you remember that you’ll never
escape. Ever.”

Words refused to come out. The
revolting sensation of tiny spiders crawling under my skin blinded
me with pain and disgust. Fury and frustration shot through me but
surprisingly no tears fell. How the hell was Edmond doing
this?

I mentally begged the spirits for
help. Please. Help. Please. This isn’t right.

“
Take off the wedding
dress,” whispered Erzulie. “The dress is fixed with the Trick. Take
it off.”

I desperately tried to unlace the corset
but shivers of pain shot through me, leaving me disorientated and
confused. I felt Edmond’s hands on me making the whole situation
all the more traumatizing and disgusting.

I knew I needed real help.
“Marinette,” I whispered. “Please. The time for brute force is
here.”

Wild rings of laughter filled the
church and the scent of blood and gasoline hung thick in the
air.

Edmond released me and he immediately
fell backwards as if someone had given him a forceful
push.

In a gust of relentless fury, a very
determined Marinette emerged from the darkness and poured gasoline
over my head. Sheers of pain shot through me as the spiders,
cockroaches and snakes started to expel themselves from my body at
a rapid pace.

I screamed and hollered as they
stormed out of me in hordes. I pulled my hair and barfed up thick,
tar-like pools of blood. Marinette hacked off the restrictive
corset strings and I quickly climbed out of the wedding dress and
ran towards my nightgown.

Edmond gripped my ankle and I fell with a
deafening crash. “Sweet, Cecile. Where are you going? Our souls
belong together now and for always, can’t you see? We’re married
now. We’re married for eternity. Isn’t that what you want? I heard
you tell my cousin that you don’t want to be a placée.”

I shook him off of me and reached for
my nightgown.

Marinette stood over him and knocked
him over the head with her gasoline filled glass bottle.

Edmond’s mouth fell open in horror and the
tiny blue veins on his neck started to bulge. A thick, pool of
blood streamed out of the side of his head and his eyes
closed.

Marinette laughed that haunting laugh
of hers and reached for her machete. “REVOLUTION!”

“
No!” I screamed. “NO! Not
that!”

Her red eyes gleamed. “Why? Hasn’t he
done enough?”

“
Yes. He has. But I can’t
and don’t want to be like him. That’s not going to
help.”

Her full lips pursed in disapproval.
She withdrew her machete and smacked Edmond again with her
bottle.

“
Enough!” I
hollered.

“
If you don’t kill him now
it won’t end well!”

“
I’ll take my chances but
I won’t live with his blood on my hands.”

“
You’re weak!” she
taunted. “Weak! Weak!”

“
No.” I shook my head. “Running
around and chopping people’s heads off with a machete isn’t the
only way.” I swallowed the cockroach/gasoline infused lump that had
built up at the back of my throat. “It can’t be the only
way.”

After bargaining with Marinette I ran down
the dark, lampless street in a blind haste. The contradictory smell
of death and sweet honeysuckle accompanied me as I navigated my way
through the uneven grooves. I was oblivious to the never-ending
laughter and music that seeped out of open windows and ballroom
doors, and tried to ignore the stares that followed me. Fatigue and
paranoia were sneaking up on me as I tried to make sense of what
had just happened. My tears had vanished altogether and a vague
numbness had replaced my fear by the time I reached
home.

Justine answered the front door. Her
face was a mask of horror and disgust as she took in the sight of
my blood/gasoline soaked nightgown.

“
What in God’s name?” she
asked.

“
Long story. Where is
Tante Celeste?”

“
She’s in the parlor with
Emilie.”

I found Tante Celeste and Emilie curled up
on the silk couch, books in hand and determined expressions on
their faces. Tante had made it her personal mission to teach Emilie
how to read and write and gave her lessons every night after
dinner.