Chapter Two

Welcome to chapter two! Thank you for reading this and please give me some feedback! I'm very sorry this chapter has taken me so long to write, despite the fun and enjoyment I have with writing this, it's also extremely time consuming and relatively complicated (I've found writing to be quite a bit harder than expected). Also, sorry about the disclaimer but I just want to want people as this story deepens there are going to be some dark and disturbing topics.

*Warning*: This book contains some dark and possibly disturbing topics to some readers.

"What's depression like?" He whispered to me in the darkness.

"It's like you're drowning. Except you can see everyone around you breathing." - Lost In Neverland

Angelique scrubbed the hardwood floors of the right wing harshly. She repeated the same motion over and over again until she locked into a cycle where didn't have to think about her movements. Granted, with every move she dug herself further into insanity; but in her mind she already broke through the barrier of ever returning to sanity again. She hated cleaning with a passion but lacked the right to stop at her own free will, which was much worse than cleaning itself.

She often wondered how the other servants for the Collins didn't seem to mind their lives. They simply accepted their position in life as if it was meant to be, and couldn't be changed. That being someone's property was completely fine. But she didn't feel that way at all. Even the thought of thinking that way aggravated her beyond words. No one should want to be a piece of property! Humans are living, breathing creatures. Not dolls.

In her mind the simplest comparison to her feelings was drowning, except she could see everyone around her breathing. But instead of giving into the constant force that pounded down, dragging her into the abyss, she fought it with every ounce in her body. But she was going... nowhere. Fighting as hard as she could only allowed her another breath of air, staying alive. But what was she staying alive for? A life only occupied with fighting and resisting to everything.

Every time she tried to climb onto the land, the people around her pushed her back in, trying to drown her. She could see the bitterness of their stares and sneers at her trembling body. But she wouldn't herself drown. She wouldn't let herself do anything. She fought the dark forces that begged to bring her down, fought the people on the land that tried to drown her and fought the idea of doing the same tasks every day with no meaning.

When she was little she used to hope that the people on the land would help her, pull her out of the water that surrounded her and save her from the pain of it all. But that hope diminished a long time ago. Now her only hope is that she could get out of the water. Even if she had to fight the people who wanted to drown her.

As much as she fought everything she stayed where she was. Even as her hatred grew stronger and stronger for the people around her, so did their efforts to drown her. A seemingly never ending circle of pain and anguish she could never escape.

Why do they hurt me? Did they used to drown as well? Has their hatred grew so strong that they do this to me? Are they as hurt as I?

Every time she thought about this she contemplated the reason of the people that hurt her. The reason behind people's evil acts. The reason behind evil itself. She had always pictured herself being in the upper-class, demanding other people around instead of being demanded. That was, in her mid at least, where she belonged. Even the thought up giving up and not having hope pained her immensely. What would her life be without it? She didn't even know why the other servants tried if they didn't dream of getting out of here and living a meaningful life. In the end, everything can be taken away from you, and all you have left is your story.

She wanted that story. She wanted her life to mean something. She had plenty of strong will and determination, what she was lacking was a plan. A way out of this meaningless life. People often told her that everyone has a place, and she should learn hers. But for what? Why should she? All that was down that road was the same thing she had been forced into her whole life. A never ending circle of misery and meaningless. Wake up before dawn, work, work, be reduced to be beaten for working her hardest and work more until she keeled over from the intensity of it all. She didn't want that and she would work to overcome it. She would never find peace or tranquility by being someone's property. And not only a piece of property, she was the lowest ranking servant in an entire household.

That might not not really be true of course, servants didn't have any certain ranks except that Agatha was the head housekeeper. But it certainly seemed that way. She was constantly reminded of it from the "higher employment" in this hell of an establishment. Always singled out, alone and dreaming of another life away from this. But she knew that dreaming another life is not the same thing as living another one. Because no matter how hard you dream, you're not going to wake up in a parallel universe where she was treated. A life not filled with sorrow and painful repetition. She did truly hate the world and everyone in it.

Except for Barnabas that is. Even at she thought of his name her heartbeat slowed and she felt immediately comforted as if his light could shine out all the darkness in hers. She thought back to the day that her world really collapsed on top of her. A memory that always lead her into another period of sadness. At moments like this, which happened quite frequently in fact, she tried as hard as she could to focus on the good. One way she had knew to overcome the darkness.

But he was here. He could save her. He had to. As much as she wanted, she couldn't think of a way out of this without him.

After her mother was killed when she was six or seven, Angelique had no idea what to do. She helplessly wandered the streets until one of the orphanages found her. They didn't have any room for her in Liverpool, so they decided the best thing would be to sell her into slavery. She could still hear the sharpness of their words,

"At least it will keep her off the streets", she remembered hearing one of the adults say, "The Collins' are looking for some new servants when Joshua and his family move to America. They are good people and will take care of her. We simply cannot afford another mouth to feed." So she was sold, tossed around like a doll. But once she fell into the arms of the Collins' on their journey to America, things weren't necessarily looking up.

Since she was an orphan, she carried out most every task alone. She had no one to comfort her when she cried, no goodnight kisses, no signs of affection from anyone. There was never an act of kindness bestowed upon her by any of the staff there, as they usually excluded her for her lack of a family, age difference and since French was her first language her English needed some work. She learned to do things alone, like she was right now.

Her whole body ached, begging her to stop. Her hands were numb and raw from the work and her back and knees had spasms of pain. She was always fearful of stopping though, in case one of the other servants would catch her.

Angelique sat back on her knees for a moment and stretched a bit. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to relax and think peacefully. Suddenly someone struck her left cheek, and she cringed. Angelique hastily grabbed the brush and looked up at Agatha, staring her down with a stern expression.

"How many times am I going to catch you slacking off?! You are not working at half the speed you should be!", Agatha criticized. Angelique clenched her jaw out of her hatred for the woman. Acting as if she was one of her Masters as well. Which she wasn't. She was a servant just like the rest of them despite being put in command.

"Do you understand me girl?". Angelique looked down and replied,

"Yes Ma'am.", remembering to keep her answers short. A household rule she was constantly Before she could return to her work Agatha spoke again,

"Get up. You are to attend to Master Barnabas' chambers now." Angelique stood up and dusted off her dress. She wondered if she had heard her wrong, but held her tongue fearful of being struck again for failure to pay attention to her superiors. Her mind was reeling with thoughts, but she kept them all to herself and made sure not to ask any questions.

"Yes Ma'am." She complied. Why was assigned to Barnabas' room? She expected that one of the most respectable and well loved maids would get that position. Why would she be assigned? Agatha's words were cold and stiff than normal, hinting it wasn't her decision. Not that she would ever assign her to his room anyway. Angelique had done the same tasks her whole life, and never got any of the "better" jobs.

Her check was burned from Agatha's punishment but she dare not touch it. Agatha waited for her to move so she gathered her things and walked away without a sound, Agatha's cold stare following her until she left the room.

Angelique breathed a sigh of relief that she was away from her. She hated that woman. All she ever did was despise her, and she didn't exactly know why. She tried as hard she could, no, she tried more than she could. And look what it got her, nothing. No, it was gaining her an audience with Barnabas. She was tried to focusing on the positives of this situation.

Finally, she thought, a chance to see him.

Thank you for spending the time to read this. Make sure you tell me what you thought and if anyone would like a shoutout for the next chapter! I will also be going back and editing chapter one soon, so keep reading and I'll make sure to tell you when finish. Hopefully I will be able to get the next chapter out sooner, as I will have much more time to write during summer.

Also did anyone notice the quote I used from Australia?

Until next time,

Angelique Bouchard