My Life as a Maid
A.N. Okay, here is Chapter 9 now! Thanks for reviews, alerts, favourites, etc. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Chapter 9, because honestly? I don't know what way this story is going.
"Don't cry, sweetheart... Don't cry."
Flippy was still chanting the same words. I had stopped crying, but he continued anyway. As we walked, I felt grass, cold and wet on my feet, seeping through my shoes. I looked back at the house. I had let Flippy hurt Giggles, and that woman and her husband too. I could have done something, but each time I had kept my distance and watched. I'd let this all happen, and I couldn't forgive myself.
It was only when I was pulled forward by Flippy I realized I'd stopped walking. He stopped too, and looked at me long and hard. It looked like he was staring into me, into the very core of my soul. I shifted my feet uncomfortably, trying not to look away. Flippy gave an exasperated sigh and let go of my hand.
"Go on if you want," he said, turning away. He began to walk away from me, further into the garden. I surprised myself by walking forwards. I caught up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened at my touch, and turned around, a startled expression on his face. He looked like he was about to attack me, but his face relaxed.
"What are you doing?" he asked softly, confused.
"I-I... I don't know," I admitted. "I... I don't like seeing you here. A-All, alone I mean."
Flippy laughed. "Alone? I've been alone for my whole life, sweetheart. I'm used to it. You don't need to worry about me."
He turned again, and continued walking. I spoke again, cursing myself for doing so.
"I just..."
"Just what?" he prompted, a grin spreading over his face. He looked over his shoulder at me. I watched as one of his teeth glinted under the light of the moon.
"I-I just didn't want t-to leave you."
If Flippy was surprised at what I said, he hid it well. My eyes were wide, and most likely my cheeks were flaming. Flippy turned around and took a step forwards. I gave a small gasp when the memory of our last kiss came back to me.
"Something wrong, dear?" asked Flippy. "You're shivering."
"I-I'm... um, a little c-cold. That's all," I tried. It was fifteen degrees outside at least.*
"Really?" asked Flippy, moving closer still. I held my breath. Flippy took off his jacket, and handed it to me. I looked at it blankly, then to him. He raised an eyebrow.
"Aren't you cold?" he asked, grinning again.
"I-I... No," I said, looking at the grass.
"So you lied," said Flippy matter-of-factly.
"N-No, I just..."
"You lied?"
"Yes."
Flippy put his arms on my shoulders, and smiled down at me. "Then you owe me," he said.
I froze when I felt his lips, two centimetres from my own. Flippy's breath was cold against my skin. I shivered again, and he smirked.
"Such a timid person you are," he said. His gold eyes were sparkling, the glow of moonlight increasing the effect. I found myself staring into them despite the chills running through me, and the tension in every part of my body.
I jumped a little when Flippy's lips brushed mine. He placed one hand on the small of my back, and moved the other to the back of my neck, tilting my head up. I felt goose bumps rise along my arms and legs. My hands were shaking, hanging limp at my side. Flippy moved away from me, grinning. He moved his hands away from me with a short laugh. I blew out sharply, and I realized I'd been holding my breath.
"I enjoyed that," said Flippy. He seemed to stiffen up then for a minute. He pressed his hands to either side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He made a sound that sounded like a snarl, clenching his teeth.
"I'm... Having, fun!" he hissed. I stood looking at him, perplexed. I took a step back. Flippy breathed in deeply, in and out, then again. He took his hand away and opened his eyes. It seemed he was back to normal. He looked at me with wide eyes and took a step forwards. I moved back further, and then ran.
"Flaky! Wait, please!"
But I ignored him and kept running. Flippy started after me, and I knew he'd catch up in no time. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder. I told myself not to. It would distract me, and I'd slow down. I kept my gaze forward, towards the house. I didn't actually want to go back inside, for fear I'd run into Giggles. But it was better than being out here with a psycho.
"Please, Flaky! Wait!"
Running like this, wind whipping my hair about, cold and fresh against my skin, I was reminded of my childhood once more. The memory wasn't exactly like this, though. Back then, I wouldn't have been running from someone like Flippy in a large garden towards an even larger house.
In those days, I would have become an Indian girl, my pale face decorated with makeshift face-paint. The fields surrounding the few houses where I'd lived transformed into a rainforest infested with creatures of all shapes and sizes. Children chose sides, cowboys or Indians. Petunia and I were always on the same side, be it the fleeing Indians or the invading cowboys. I'd never liked the game much, but the twins from back home used to make us join in.
"Flaky! Stop running, please!"
I glanced over my shoulder, despite having told myself not to. Flippy was quite close. Too close. I turned back and ran as fast as I could, silently begging for my Mother's strength. I prayed and prayed for her, while the muscles in my legs screamed at me to slow down. But I had my Mother's determination with me now. I moved my arms faster; I lowered myself, gaining speed.
After a couple more seconds the sound of Flippy's footsteps faded. I slowed down ever so slightly, arriving at the emergency exit door. I slumped against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I scanned my eyes along the garden, but saw no sign of Flippy. I straightened up and opened the door.
The area was less crowded now. It wasn't surprising some had left early. Giggles was nowhere to be seen. I scooted through people dancing, trying to mostly avoid being seen. I passed Flippy's father on the way; the smell of alcohol that floated about him made me shudder. I found a free table, and sat down quickly, rubbing my sore feet. I put my shoes back on and stood up, scanning the room once more. I must have looked paranoid. I was paranoid.
Flippy entered through the exit door, jacket-less and panting. He looked around, and I dived under the table. A few people turned to look at me, but I ignored them. I peeked out from under the tablecloth, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. Flippy was making his way over the dance floor. I made a small squeaking sound and retreated from him. I was careful to avoid hitting people's legs under the table as I backed away on all fours.
"Excuse me? Have you seen a girl in a red dress nearby? She has long red hair too, and dandruff, if that helps."
I froze at the sound of Flippy's voice. He was a little way up the table, talking to some person I'd passed.
"Hmm... Now that I think of it, I saw a little girl in a dress run by this table not too long ago. What age is she?"
"About fourteen, but she's pretty small," said Flippy.
"I know I saw a girl run by here," said the man. I began to crawl faster and faster, lifting my knee to avoid a woman's high-heel. Flippy moved along the table, and I slowed down, letting him pass me out. When I reached the end of the table, I look out again from under the cloth. Flippy wasn't anywhere nearby. I crawled out, and looked around once more to be sure.
I left the dining hall, and ran to my room. I hurtled downstairs to the basement, tripping over myself. The hall was quiet compared with the rest of the house. Upstairs, the music was blaring, people were shouting over the noise. It was impossible to even hear yourself think. I was glad to be down here in this cool, quiet place.
I swung open the door of my room and flopped onto the bed, kicking my shoes off. I rolled over and found my old clothes folded in my drawer. I got changed, and then lay down in bed, looking up at the ceiling. After a minute, I got up and went to my drawer. In the second drawer, the middle one, there was a key. I took it out and moved to the door. The key turned with a click, and I dropped it back into the drawer before crawling back into bed. All the while I lay looking at the door, as if someone was about to burst in.
"I-I am seriously paranoid," I whispered.
A.N. Suck-ish? I know :( Sorry this chapter was such a failure. Even so, I hope you enjoyed it, even if only a little.
* Fifteen degrees Centigrade is pretty warm. It's about 63 degrees Fahrenheit.