Chapter 4: Change
(So...while writing this chapter, I shall be watching the musical Chicago. I LOVE that musical so much--it's the best ever. So, if somehow this chapter has randomness associated with the musical, you know why. Though, I doubt that there will be anything that's actually noticable. Thus, enjoy!)
Cinderella heard soft chirping and chatter when she awoke the next morning. Quiet, steady footsteps rushed by her bed, followed by a humid breeze that brushed against her face. She twisted over in the bed with her eyes squeezed shut. Who's...in my room?
A hand suddenly pulled the covers off of Cinderella and tapped her harshly on the arm. "Time to be gettin' up, missus," a rushed voice whispered.
"Who..." Cinderella mumbled. She suddenly opened her eyes to find something... rather odd.
She wasn't in her bed.
She wasn't in her room.
Infact, she wasn't even in her own house.
There she was, on a small bed, in the middle of a long and narrow room, with maids rushing around to get ready for their day's work. A few of the maids rushed around fixing things, some putting on too much makeup infront of a poorly lit mirror, and others were already running around and doing their chores. Cinderella sat up in a daze as everyone passed before her--she was in the palace. She was in the maid's section of the palace.
She looked up at the rough woman who had awoken her and tipped her head to the side, "Who are you?"
The woman sighed as she threw back her round head full of fuzzy blonde and gray hair, "Ellie Robinson. Mrs. Robinson to you, an' it's time for you to get out of bed--" Mrs. Robinson pulled her out of the bed and onto her feet, "--get dressed--" She tossed a maids' uniform over to Cinderella along with two matching ribbons for her hair, "--an' get to your maids' training. Which is in," she paused, "four minutes."
Cinderella, scatter-brained and confussed, pulled the silver uniform-dress over her head, braided her hair into the required two braids, and slid through the long and narrow room to find Mrs. Robinson.
"Mrs. Robinson! Mrs. Robinson!" Cinderella called out in a frenzy. "Mrs. Robinson! I haven't any shoes!"
Mrs. Robinson turned around and looked down at Cinderella's stocking feet, "Well, it would seem that yer right." She walked huskily to the dim mirror and pulled a pair of wooden shoes from underneath it. "Here, try these."
Cinderella placed the wooden clog-like shoes on her feet with a frown. "They don't really match the silver dress," she complained lightly.
Mrs. Robinson raised her eyebrow. "They don't?"
"No...?" she answered in half a question.
"Well," Mrs. Robinson chuckled, "You can paint them to match if you ever come across some paint."
"But, they don't fit well, either!" Cinderella defended. These shoes are hideous, and I'm not going down without a fight! I refuse to wear these!
"The don't?" she questioned. "That's just too bad, then, because those are the only shoes on hand."
"What?" Cinderella whispered in shock. I have never and will never put shoes like these on my feet!
"I'll pick up a bigger size that matches next time I go out," Mrs. Robinson smiled, "that is, if I remember."
With that, Mrs. Robinson tugged Cinderella's hand and started to briskly walk toward the end of the room where a small, wooden door stood, warped and damaged. She shoved the door open and walked right through into a similar room to that of the maid's room. Cinderella was pushed into a seat next to three other girls infront of a heavy-set woman with jet-black hair chopped short and straight. She stared with peircing eyes at Cinderella. Obviously, tardiness will not be acceptable here.
The woman paced across the room, only a few feet from the four girls. She stopped infront of Cinderella and smiled. "And, just what is your name?" she asked.
Cinderella choked on her words, "Cin...Cinderella, ma'am." She shrunk into her chair and swore that she would give anything to be able to melt into the floor.
"Cinderella. Well," she said as she walked away, "I'll remember that. If you're late again, I might just have to fire you." Cinderella clenched her jaw and looked down. "Now," the woman began, "I'm guessing that you all want to be royal maids. Am I correct?" She didn't wait for the girls to nod before continuing.
"I am Regina Kelly, and for the next two weeks, I will own you four girls. If I give a command, you follow. Leave no task undone if you're asked to do it. That is the first rule. You complete your chores and never question a thing. I don't care if you're told to commit murder! You are not to question authority. Any questions?" Nobody made so much as a breath's sound. "No?" Regina Kelly strolled across the room, quite pleased with herself.
"It would seem that you all are learning something. Good. Quick learners make good maids," she paused to finish her pacing infront of them before continuing, "and, Lord knows, you all will need to be the best maids in no time at all. Now... You will all be asigned to simple chores for the day--sweeping, scrubbing the floors, things like that. If you don't know where to find something, ask another maid. If you don't know how to do something, find a sleeping maid and make them teach you. And, now this is the most important rule, if a royal so much as speaks or glances at you, show the highest respect. Never call them by their names; Your Royal Highness shall do for that. Never look them in the eyes. And always bow to them."
Regina Kelly stared each of them in the eyes, and the girls quickly glanced down to their feet to escape. Cinderella analyzed her ugly clog-like shoes as Regina finished with her last statement.
"Now," she said, handing each of the girls a slip of paper, "Here are your chores. Complete them by dinner if you want any. Otherwise, you'll go to bed hungry."
Cinderella and the other girls quickly stood up while looking at the ground, and left to complete their tasks. And, as Cinderella walked out of the door to find out where the kitchen mop was, she swore that she heard one of the other girls crying--something that she would have to get used to.
(I didn't really know how to end this chapter, but I had to make it shorter. I have a cramp in my hand that won't leave, and I may need to recieve medical advice--Lord help me. I'll post a new chapter as soon as my hand stops cramping so horribly. -Lella)