My preference is not to live in the past, but to look forward to the promises the future holds. Everyday, every hour, every minute that passes is the opportunity to experience the wonders of life. This is how I want to live, unburdened by the shackles that hold me to the estate. I was not born into my position, I was not born into any position for that matter. Honestly, I am not sure why I lived here. I spent my days rushing through the wide corridors so as not to be seen by the staff or the head family of the estate. My mother always said to never be seen by them. I was always drawn though, to the shiny things. The ones who would label me as wretched. I would prance around their rooms when I was sure they were gone, disguising myself as one of them. Those were my favorite performances of all, where there was no pressure from any audience except for myself.

It came as no surprise that I was the chosen one. The one who stays here under all circumstances, the one who inherits the history hidden in the bones of the estate. The estate and I became close over time, it never failed to reveal the important things. The truths that even my mother dared to hide from me, she was cowardly, really. Always whispering rotten things about the prestige, like how they would run in horror at the sight of me. The estate made sure that I knew though, that even though they didn't choose me, it did and that's all that mattered.

I was ready, right then and there to take what was mine but I was reminded to be patient. It was no easy task to be the chosen one, I had to study and practice. I had to know everything there was to know about the estate and those in it. There were times when I lost hope, I thought I couldn't do it, I would hear the words of my mother. I would bounce around the idea that my mother was right, maybe they would run from me or be repulsed by looking my way. I never stopped though, learning everything I needed to know.

The day was ordinary, I made my rounds to observe the polished trinkets. No one knew I was here, since my mother was gone. So, I held no responsibility other than to myself and the estate. The urge to know was overpowering, I needed to understand them; I would reach and reach but I could never touch. Until that day, the day I was chosen. I made my way to the room of the inheritor of the estate. I held a particular interest in her as she resembled me. She had locks of auburn hair that met her shoulder blades and soft pale skin sprinkled with freckles, but her eyes intrigued me the most. She had one brown and one blue, the same as I.

If we stood directly in front of one another, it would almost be like looking in the mirror. This is why she piqued my interest, I saw her and imagined a shadowless life. I hated her, with her proper ways and silver spoon. I hated her, for she had everything I did but I had nothing but that.

That day, the day I was chosen, I knew the estate was preparing me, getting me closer and closer; I needed it in my grasp. I remember it so clearly now, or at least everything I should. Not in a sense that I can relive it, no I shouldn't relive it.

In her room is a hidden entrance, it is so old that not even the staff know about it. I do, though, I know every inch of the estate, I appreciate its secrets. So, I sit quietly, observing her movements through the small opening I made years ago. There is a mirror that sits flush against the wall I am stationed behind, so when she looks in it I do the same. Her hand goes to her hair moving it every which way, down to her cheeks that she pushes up before roughly pinching them. A lonely tear flows down her face as she starts undressing very slowly, she never moves her eyes from the mirror. She looks at herself in disgust and I do the same, for if she hates herself she hates me too.

Her dress falls into a pool at her feet, she turns to the side, uses her hand to shake her thigh, grits her teeth and looks away. More tears follow the first and she walks around in a circle, just to follow her tracks back to where she started, back to me. She smooths her hand down her stomach before bending down to hug her knees. Her sobs go on for ages with the slight pause every few minutes to look up at herself. Maybe she knows I am here, maybe she displays herself in this manner only in front of me. The manner where her facade is washed away with her desperate cries of a different life. It's only because hers is all she has ever known, oblivious to how it feels to be out of the spotlight; she's been there so long it has blinded her.

The estate calls to me as it has before, letting me know my secret is safe. This I know to be true. The estate has never let me down, I know all of its secrets and it knows mine. But now is not the time, not while she sits woefully on the floor. Her symphony of cries soothes me, so I just wait.

I wait, wait, and wait.

I know it is my time once she is covered by the peaceful blanket of unconsciousness, I make my move. My heart jumps from my chest with every movement I make, bringing me closer to her. I walk to her wardrobe, quickly changing from my old rags to the fancy silk gowns she wears to bed. I choose one identical to the one she wears this night, then I make my way to the mirror. I begin mimicking her exact movements, the ones that have become my second nature. It infuriates me, how she hates herself, how she makes me hate myself.

I slowly turn, making my way to her bedside. I watch as she breathes deeply, I take the chance to observe her features, trying my hardest to find a flaw. I find nothing. Next, I try to find something we do not have in common. It distracts me as I start pacing from the bed to the mirror, searching for anything I may have missed.

I gave it my all but found nothing, no flaws, no differences. It was confirmation that I was chosen. I did what anyone would have done, it was what I had to do. Like I said, being the chosen one isn't easy.

I remember most of all when I walked to where the moonlight shined through the window embracing the light it casted upon me, welcoming it, getting used to it. Then I did what I was meant to do. I would say I'll spare you those details, the truth is I have no choice but to. All I know is I did what I had to do.

The commotion caught the attention of a few guards stationed down the hall. I heard the thick thumps of their boots and waited for them, fear seeped into my bones when I considered the repercussions of my plan failing. Then, for the last time the estate called to me. I realized then, when they burst through the doors, all I needed to do was what I practiced in the dark my whole life. I had to give a performance. The last performance I ever had to give, because then, my true life began.