A Tea Party to Remember

Claire stared upon the party clothes that laid neatly on her bed. Imaging how they would look on her over and over again in her mind. She contemplated, yet again, changing the dress or possibly the color of the stockings that she had picked. No, these would have to do. There was no time for second guessing. Claire had finally decided she made the right choice of fashion, yet had not decided if going to the tea party was what she truly wanted at all.

The creeping anxiety made itself apparent up along the back of Claire's neck. Why was simply going to a lovely gathering so hard? It could have been from Ms. Porter's snarky remarks or maybe Mrs. Cooney's too high of pitched voice.

Pushing these worries aside, Claire had finally finished putting on her last accessory. A beautiful necklace with a sapphire stone in the middle. She slowly took in her reflection from the mirror in front of her and let out a small, guilty smile. Claire was not usually one for being vein with appearance, but the clothes fell so gracefully along her shape she couldn't help to find it appealing.

While stepping through the bedroom door and past the gates, Claire reminded herself that these upscale social gatherings could be useful for more than just petty gossip. Many progressive conversations have come from sitting in a circle sipping the warm liquid of various herbs and eating sweet treats. It was an established and almost ritualistic way of forcing people to talk face to face these days.

Soon arriving at the location, Claire had finished mentally reciting a few key points she did not want to forget; It is important to question those in authority, how can we ensure that our freedoms in this country are protected, and do we feel like we are being treated as equals. With these being heavy hitting topics, Claire knew there would also be a necessity of small talk, such as who loves who, and what are the latest trends of the stars.

The tea party was hosted at Isabella McDonnell's estate. A beautiful turn of the century home with surrounding gardens and high fences. Claire was greeted by a McDonnell guardsmen who lead her into the parlor.

"Claire! Darling! Come join us won't you my dear? Annabelle here was just telling us about a high profile murder she read about last week".

The shrieking words were almost more of a soprano song than a welcoming from Mrs. Cooney.

Claire shyly puttered into the large room with a grand oak table in the middle, decorated with the finest tea cups one could find. She spotted a comfortable chair that faced the head chair, but did not call attention for its spot. All the women in the room were dressed in gorgeous dresses, hats, and lace gloves. Claire couldn't help but wonder if they all struggled with their choice of clothes as much as she did previous to showing up.

The tea was soon served by the maidservants and butlers, along with biscuits and powdered doughnuts. Claire always lived by the saying, "You have two ears and one mouth for a reason". This implying one should always listen twice as much as they talk. Enjoying her drink and giving an understanding nod every once in a while, Claire realized enough opening discussions had been had and it was time to start the interesting ones.

"So, Ms. Porter," Claire began, "What is your opinion on our current administration?"

"Well, we're just going to get right into the politics of it I see." Ms. Porter replied half sipping her tea.

"I just think its important that everyone shares their thoughts on who has the power over everything we do here." Claire said.

She said these words with confidence, which even surprised herself. Although Claire's inner voice had told her she may have spoke too soon or perhaps too strongly, Claire knew these things needed to be said.

"A bunch of lazy, overpaid morons is what they are if you ask me." Exclaimed Isabelle.

This matter of fact slander had made Claire regain her hope of making this sitting go in her favor. Soon more of the women began chiming in about their feelings on how things could be better run or why they like the way it is.

Coming was not a mistake, Claire concluded in her mind. This social call was not just sharing a drink but coming together as women in an uncertain time of existence.

The hours went on through the evening with pleasant stories and great debates. The worry had started to melt off of Claire with every passing comment and suggestion she input.

"Tell us Claire, how did you come to be here?" asked an older woman called Doris.

"Oh, well I believe i received an invitation from Mrs. Donnelly maybe four years ago, and have been coming to these parties every so often ever since." explained Claire.

"No, you light-headed girl," Ms. Porter snapped, "she means what did you do to get here." While saying "here", Ms. Porter had pointed with both fingers down to the ground as in asking how Claire got into the building. Utterly confused, Claire joked that she walked herself of her own free will down the street and quickly changed the subject.

One main conversation had started to follow a common pattern of breaking up and becoming multiple conversations among the group. This was a relief to Claire as it gave her time to regain her thoughts and reflect on what had been said. She wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline of the exciting topics or the time getting late but Claire had started to ironically actually fell light headed. Surely the tea was just a normal blend of lavender like it always was, but the room almost started to spin around Claire with every ticking minute.

What did Ms. Porter mean by what did Claire "do" to get "here"?

It was clear to Claire that her social battery was quickly running out and pressing topics would have to wait for the next tea party.

While the others were still distracted with miniature conversations between themselves, Claire decided to slowly stand and make her way for the front door.

"Um, Claire? Where are you going?" Asked Mrs. Cooney.

"I think it's time for me to retire and head home. Thank you all for the wonderful evening, and Isabelle the tea was absolutely delicious." Praised Claire.

"This is why we need to stop inviting her" whispered Ms. Porter.

"She does this every time!"

Sent into a dizzying panic, Claire struggled to comprehend what was happening.

"I've done this before?" Claire asked to herself.

"No! No, we always have good meetings I would never do anything to disrupt a party". Claire assured.

Mentally, Claire had a million thoughts going through her mind in only a few seconds. None of this made sense to her and felt like a strange nightmare. The waves of nausea and darkness swept over Claire like a sea in a storm. Overcome with all of this Claire fell to the cold hard floor in front of the group. Still able to see, Claire stared at the women watching her in horror and tried to see any face that was willing to help her. No one moved.

Suddenly, like a veil had been released and drifting to the ground, the women's appearances started to shift. Their beautiful dresses, patterned skirts, feather boas, lace gloves, and shining jewels all started to fade away.

Claire tried reassuring herself that she was dreaming and would wake up from this tea party from hell any second. However, her eyes continued to force her to see the truth that was revealed in front her her. All of the women were now dressed in dirty blue and grey jumpsuits of some sort. Their faces looked more weathered and hair had become unruly with knots and frizz. This was the same group of women but now almost unrecognizable.

Quickly Claire saw it was not just the women changing, but the house that surrounded them as well. The walls became bleak with rust and sick greenish tiles. A florescent glow shone into Claire's eyes from a leaking ceiling above. Even the temperature of the room became suddenly cold and damp.

The once distinguished looking Guard had grabbed ahold of Claire's arm and began picking her up like she was a small child. She turned to see he was now wearing what appeared to be nurse's scrubs with a large needle in his free hand.

It all made sense to Claire. The suppressed memories started flooding back to her brain and a saddening reminder confirmed where Claire really was. McDonnell Penitentiary for the Mentally Insane. Claire recalled the familiar blue patient clothes she had actually been wearing and the many years she had been living in the facility. She stopped resisting the urge to remember and let it all come back. Ms. Porter was right, this has happened before, and often.

"The drugs wore off too early today Hank". Claire tiredly said to the guard.

"You won't have to worry about that for too long miss." replied the Hank.

With a quick and precise jab, the needle plunged into Claire's bicep and followed with gentle darkness sending her into a deep sleep.

The next morning Claire awoke with a feeling of purpose. She became excited and nervous about the tea party and decided to neatly lay the clothes she intended to wear on her bed.