The sun was rising and everything was waking up from the little window of her miserable apartment. Her little and perhaps unhealthily thin body was still laying lazily on her bed. Her eyes opened slowly…
She stretched her arms over her head, her copper-red hair was messy and spread all over the pillow. She looked outside, with an air of sadness. That had been her home through those years. She had lived in uninhabitable hiding places, getting food wherever she could, gaining some people's trust… but that is not easy when you are only ten years old and have been practically forced to live in the streets. The reason? Too many mouths to feed, so she, being the eldest, was left outside all by herself.
She had been the apple of her mother's eye, the centre of her friends' attraction… but that all changed so soon. She went from living the life of a lovely, normal, healthy child, to the living in the streets. The body which had been rounded at the age of ten and the soft nacred skin had turned skinny, deadly pale, with no womanly curves.
Working days seemed eternal to her. All day going here and there non-stopping, obeying her boss's orders that many times had her getting home with loads of bags. But to see him compensated. These thoughts carried her to the events of the prior night. He had used such strength, tension and anger to hold her so tight and so close to him. So close she could feel his breathing, the heat of his body, smell his fragrance, look into his eyes and analyze them carefully. She had never thought someone so dangerous could make her pulse flutter in such a way and make an answer like the one she had given him come from her lips.
A simple sentence had given away the inevitable attraction that had always drawn her to him. But the more she thought about it, the less she regretted it. Then, she had listened to his music, seen his fingers slowly and rhythmically caressing that violin. How she had wished to be touched in that way. No, she was just deceiving herself. How she had wished he had touched her in that way. Since the night before, her mind had started spinning and there were only thoughts of him and his music in her head.
She still remembered the day she had seen him for the first time. She had come into his house shyly… She did not know why but she felt intimidated by it and it was exciting at the same time. The little apartment was no great thing and it was in serious need of attention. Old furniture was covered by a thick layer of dust, as well as the silent piano and the fireplace, which was completely dirty for the lack of use.
'He is the most special lodger we have ever had, so serve him well, dearest'.
That had been the only warning the woman who had taken her from the streets and their horror had given her before she entered the apartment and found him there, awaiting. His impeccable figure, imposing and inquisitive look searching hers made her feel like the most insignificant person on earth next to that tall, peculiar gentleman behind a mask. In fact, that was the first thing she noticed when they met, the beautiful white porcelain mask that covered half his face. Angie had tried to ask him about it in the middle of some of the few times they had talked to each other but he always avoided an answer.
Once she had washed and got dressed, she looked her image en in the mirror. Ah, it was practically impossible that he would look at her twice. He had possibly met hundreds of glorious women who had so much more to offer than her.
She rushed, as she was nearly late.
The sound of the door echoed through the room. Christine woke up with a start. A couple of seconds afterwards, Emma's voice came to her ears.
'Wake up! Housework won't do itself'.
She sat up in her bed, checking the time in the clock, as soft daylight came through the window. It was only six in the morning. Sighing, Christine got up, washed her face, and got ready to face the tasks which had been held out for her by the people who had taken her in… for good-willed reasons?
The first hour came and went by easily, as she had something for breakfast without the annoying presence of her hostesses, and she retired to read in the living-room, enjoying the quietness of the residence. It was the last book she had been reading and after the last events, she had had no time nor desire to keep up the reading until she found that brief moment of peace when the sun started its ascent in the sky and the soft breeze which entered the room through the window and slightly blowed the curtains.
She forgot the world for a moment, focusing in words, picturing each scene in her mind, each character… but a hand squeezing her shoulder forced her out of the refuge of reading at once.
'Dear, I thought we had stated clearly that you would be beginning to work here today, didn't we?'. Marie's frozen tone could be noticed easily.
'Yes…'. Christine turned slowly, fear filling her voice.
The book was taken roughly from her trembling hands and thrown to the furthest extreme of the room.
'You will not read another page until every single room in this residence is clean and tidy'. Marie glared, as Christine had never seen her before. 'Is it clear? This is not a hostel'.
With this, the woman gave a few long strides, kicked the book, which was still lying on the floor, and left.
She did not react. She simply stood still, unmoving, reflecting on how she had been insulted in the unkindest way right before her eyes. Her pale cheeks blushed with rage, and closing her hand in a fist, she went to the closet were she knew she would find everything she would need to start her working day.