Faithful Servant

Elysium is as far as to.
The very nearest room.
If in that room a friend awaits.
Felicity or doom.

Emily Dickinson



We lived in a great house on a hill, miles from town. The servants and I served the master of the house for many years. He had always been kind to us, to me.

The master and I were quite fond of taking long morning walks beside a stream that ran past the property. During these walks, he would talk for hours, recounting tales of his youth. And I would listen attentively to each one. Our friendship grew more as time passed. I never left his side.

We often hunted quail and wild pheasant in the woods behind the house. And I learned during these hunts that I had an innate skill at killing. My master had seemed very pleased with my newfound abilities. Some would argue that it was nature calling, or I thought it had always been in my nature.

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In later years, my master entered difficult times. He sold many of his trappings and family heirlooms to cover the servants' wages. The servants stayed on until the coffers ran dry. And then the hunts and walks stopped and food became scarce. But I could not in good conscience leave my master's side.

As time went on, my master's health and his house fell into decline. He started to walk about the empty house at night, having conversations with himself. Some nights, I'd find him standing at the edge of the landing to the great stairway, staring into the dark.

More time had passed and what food we had was now all but gone. And so I walked the empty halls hungry. Walked until I noticed a foul smell. A smell that had traveled to every room and every floor of the house. Curious why I hadn't noticed it until now? Following the scent, I descend the great stairway. The odor intensifying until there on his back straddling the curtail step of the great stairway lay my master, half-eaten.

Remembering I became disheartened by what I had done and by what I was now compelled to do. I had hoped that our lifelong friendship would somehow absolve me from this guilt and shame. Even so, I looked away from my friend's gaze as I bit into him once more.