It was just a normal day. That's what I kept telling myself, anyway. Just a normal day in paradise, right? I wish. Unless, of course, you consider five hours worth of chores a day 'paradise'. Then in that case, you're living the dream, my friend.
"Felicity!" Jerry snarled, throwing a wad of newspaper at me. "C'mon, you have to hurry! The Johnsons will be here soon, and I will not have them come in to a dirty house."
In reply, I knew to only nod. Verbal replies were worthless with Jerry. If you said anything back, even just a reply, he would consider it 'talking back' and would backhand you. I'd much rather stay bruise-free for a while, thank you very much.
The glass table squeaked as I wiped a rag along it, covered in Windex glass cleaner. The Windex is good for cleaning glass, yeah, but then you have me using it. With a rag and bare hands. And not to mention cuts on my hands that burned every single time the Windex touched them. No complaining, though. No more bruises.
Upstairs, I could hear somebody moving around. It was either the dog, Soldier, or Gertrude, my foster mother. The foster kid agency did background checks on the to-be foster parents, but they don't do attitude, personality, moral, or ethnic checks. If they did, I would be sent to much nicer homes. These people, the Browns, just use me as a cleaning tool to get money.
After scrubbing the glass table over one more time, I wiped over it smoothly with a dry paper towel before moving to put away the cleaning supplies. The last thing I had to do today before I went to bed was scrubbing the kitchen floor.
That is easily my least favorite chore to do. With how Gertrude, or Trudy if you like, cooks and never cleans up, it is the dirtiest room in the house. No surprise that their bedroom is a close second in that particular race. Their bed is always unmade, which stirs interesting thoughts and conclusions. The floor is covered in empty wrappings, I have no idea how old most of those are, and dirty laundry covers all the other spaces. I don't know how they can sleep in there.
Gertrude walked down the carpet covered stairway, her eyes glaring into the back of my head. "What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up.
I frowned. "What you told me to do…?"
"Don't mouth back at me, young lady! I put a roof over your head!"
Yeah, and I clean it, but that doesn't mean I shove that fact in your face every hour. If she didn't hold it over me so often, then I'd be okay, but man. That's just too much. Too often.
"Sorry-"
She scoffed. "Whatever. Scrub the floor, then throw a load of towels in the washer and start it. I'm out of towels in my bathroom."
I did as I was told, and twenty minutes later, I was putting the wet towels into the washing machine. After pressing the start button, I heard the doorbell ring.
"I'll get it!" Jerry screamed. His pounding footsteps were loud as he ran to the door and opened it, no doubt a large smile on his face. The smile was probably not the most genuine that was ever given.
What happened after he shook the house with his feet was unknown to me. As soon as I was finished with putting the towels in, I headed upstairs to my bedroom. It was the entire attic, but it wasn't like a finished attic.
Cobwebs were spread around the whole perimeter, and before bed every night I had to search my bed to make sure there were no spiders that were going to sleep with me. Sleeping with spiders is not currently on my bucket list, and it never will be on there. Though if it was, I probably would already have crossed it out. No doubt that I have done it already.
A single dresser was placed in the corner of my room, the top covered in dust. If Jerry or Gertrude would let me bring cleaning supplies up here, then my room would be immaculate. But no, those supplies are for downstairs only. Not me.
Unless I'm using them for their benefit. In that case, it's completely alright to use all the supplies I need, and then some.
Rain pattered against my half-cracked window. The sound was oddly calming to my ears. The rain came and went quickly, on a normal day, but today was different. It stayed, for longer than an hour.
Confused, I took out the old radio and plugged it in. The Weather Service was making some big announcement.
"The National Weather Service in Raleigh has issued a severe thunderstorm warning for-"
"Felicity, turn the radio off, dammit!" I heard Jerry scream from downstairs. I believe that the people he was having over for dinner were his bosses. It was obvious how important this dinner was to his career. But it was also dumb how the radio up here will affect on whether or not he gets a fifty cent pay raise.
"Yes, sir!" I called down to him, turning the radio down. Though not completely off. There is nothing better to do up here than listen to people converse on public broadcast. It always feels like the fifties. That's all I can do here.
"- Northern Jasper county in central Virginia-" The radio continued to list of counties in the state. Most of the listed counties were in Central or in North-Central Virginia. Around here, in this small town, we usually don't get rain. It's an odd thing. The towns and cities all around will get poured on, drenched by Mother Nature, but us?
Nada. Nein. Nothing.
As it ended up, I laid down on my bed. The mattress springs creaked as I made shadows appear on my walls, my blinds closed. I pressed my palms together and parted my fingertips, curling some and pressing others apart, till I had made what I was looking for. A dog. A shadow dog.
I smiled softly at the shape. Maybe it's a childish thing to be doing. Making shadows on a wall. But what else is there to do? Listen to the radio? Clean? Maybe eat every once and a while?
Before I knew it, all too soon, I heard Gertrude trodding up to my room. Up the attic ladder.
"Felicity. There are some people here to see you."
That's a new one...