Chapter 2: Meeting Darla
"Cora!" I heard Lady Olive yell my name. "Cora! Where are you?"
"Hold on, I'm coming." I finished folding the last of Lady Olive's satin sheets and gathered them in a basket.
"Cora! What's taking you so long?"
Sighing, I picked up the basket and walked up the staircase to Lady Olive's room. My 15 year old sister was in there, desperately attempting to style Lady Olive's scrawny curls.
"Yes?" I quietly asked.
"Go tell Mum I need money for my shopping trip," she ordered. "A lot," she added as an afterthought.
"Alright," I told her, "I'll be right back."
I went across the manor to Dame Olga's sitting room where I knew she would be. I walked into the lavishly decorated room, not bothering to knock.
"Lady Olive needs money for her shopping trip today," I announced. "She said to send a lot."
"Are you sure Ollie sent you?" Dame Olga asked, searching my eyes. She was always so afraid my family was trying to steal her money, even though most of it was ours, the money she stole from my parents.
"Yes," I replied, "Lady Olive sent me."
"Fine then." She went to her purse and took out several coins, putting them into a blue change purse. "Take this straight to her, and do not stop along the way, or I'll have you whipped for disobedience." She gave me the purse and pushed me out the door.
Directly in between Lady Olive and Dame Olga's rooms was Lady Olive's daughter's quarters. As I passed them, I noticed the door was slightly ajar and Darla was lying on her bed.
"Cora," she demanded, "Cora, come here."
I briefly considered Dame Olga's threat to have me whipped if I stopped along the way, but knew she would never whip me for fear I would tell. I entered Darla's room.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Don't talk that way to your betters," she said, sticking her smug nose in the air. "My Auntie Hattie is the queen, and who is your aunt?"
"Actually," I replied, "My step-aunt is also queen."
She quickly wrinkled up that annoying nose and narrowed her eyes. I just looked on in amusement. Then, before I knew it, she had slapped me. Then she sat back in contentment.
"I am your superior," she said in self-satisfied voice. "For if I were not, could I do this?" she smiled sweetly at me. "Wash the windows."
"Gladly," I responded in a competitive way. I picked up the bucket of soap and water and walked to her windows and quickly scrubbed them.
"Not those windows," she said, "those." She pointed up to a few windows at the top of the tall walls. Out of convenience, they had not been washed in years.
I looked at her with pure hate. Then, with out a word, I stormed out of the room. All the way down the hall I could hear her evil laugh.
A/N: I know this is a weird place to leave off, but I need a break and am still not quite sure were I'm going with this story. This may be the worst story I have ever written, so I need ya'll to tell me if I should continue. And if I do continue, it desperately needs a new name! Please, please, please review!! I need all of ya'lls suggestions!!
Love ya'll Curly Q