His Last Duchess

When I first met him, I found him to be quite charming, in his own odd way. I knew he was much older than me, but I understood that I had to fulfil my duties to my family and accept his marriage proposal. In the beginning, I thought it was going to work out just fine as he was always very attentive towards me, always making sure I was looked after and taken care of. But in a matter of weeks, attention turned into obsession. 
     He was always watching me, wherever I went and whatever I did. One time, a young servant brought me a bowl of cherries on the terrace, and as I thanked the boy for the gesture and smiled at him in appreciation, I noticed out of the corner of my eye my husband peeking at me through the kitchen window, his eyes burning with jealousy. Maybe I was just overthinking things, but he even seemed to be jealous of the mule I used to ride around the garden. He would throw terrible fits of anger, and sometimes he would turn to violence. I started to fear him as he kept accusing me of smiling at other men too sweetly and punishing me for it. Therefore, I isolated myself in an attempt to avoid all contact with the male kind as that seemed to be what upset him most. For months I lived in complete isolation and tried to keep myself entertained with painting, but one day he burst into the studio and tore the canvas apart. Henceforth I stopped painting.

     We had separate bedrooms, and I noticed that he would lock the door to my room from the outside at night. Perhaps he was afraid that I would sneak out to see other men. I hardly ever got any sleep, as I was afraid of what he might do to me if I did not keep my wits about me. On one particularly starry night, I was staring blankly at the ceiling as I did most nights, and my heart suddenly skipped a beat as I heard the key turn in the lock. I instinctively closed my eyes and pulled up the covers, pretending to be asleep. There was a sound of footsteps quickly approaching my bed, every muscle in my body tensed in preparation for what was to come, and then there was silence. Never in my life had I felt so scared. The very second I opened my eyes, I felt a sharp pain in my chest and a wet, warm liquid soaking through my night gown. The very last thing I saw before everything went dark was his face twisted with madness and eyes green with jealousy.

     Now, I roam the halls I used to walk, through walls and floors I move with ease, and he can no longer do me any harm. He had a painting of me hung in one of his private chambers, behind a curtain. There are other paintings in that chamber. I have seen his new duchess. She looks beautiful. And terrified.