My Life as a Maid

A.N. It's been a while, huh? I haven't had much time to pick this up and get writing again, what with school, and the ridiculous amount of homework I'm getting nowadays. Essays everyday... So tiring... So, I really hope this was worth the wait! Here's Chapter 12 :)

"Tonight's game will be a telling one. I assume you remember the rules; if you don't tell the truth, you'll be forced to. Understand?"

"Yes."

I was kneeling at the bottom of the laundry chute again, Flippy on the other side. As usual, only his eyes were visible, the same for me.

"Your hand, sweetheart."

I stuck my left hand up the chute, noticing a yellow-ish bruise on my arm as I did. I winced but didn't make any sound.

"Very well. First question. How long have you known Petunia?"

"O-Oh... um... since I was about six... or younger..."

"I see. And did you know Giggles before you talked at the party?"

"No. Th-That was the first time."

I tried not to shudder at the memory of that party. It had been disastrous, and it looked as if I'd been involved with Flippy's 'accidents'; not something a maid wanted on her report card. Giggles had been nice, but now I felt she'd never want to look at me again.

"Good. Okay, now you can ask a question."

"Oh... um..."

"Don't be shy."

The truth was, I had no idea what I wanted to ask him. Lots of questions popped into my head, all delusional and worrying. Where was his mother? Did Flippy have any friends? Or had he spent his life alone in this house? Had Flippy ever murdered something, or someone? I shook that last question out of my head. Finally I decided on a simpler one.

"What is your favourite thing?"

"My favourite thing? Explain."

"W-Well... my favourite thing is..." I tried to think of things I used to love when I was younger. "I used to love going to the river near my old home when it's very calm outside, a-and listening to the water go by."

"But you can't hear it," Flippy argued. "The water would be still if the weather was calm, wouldn't it? There'd be no wind to push it along and make noise."

"That... that's the point, I think. That you can't hear it. It makes me feel relaxed."

"Hmmm... Interesting. Well, my favourite thing would have to be... talking to you."

"T-Talking to me? Why?"

I could hear Flippy smirk. "Because I'm aware of the power I hold over you."

I hadn't been expecting an answer like that. And I hadn't ever thought of that either. Flippy did seem to hold a certain power over me, although he was a higher-class. Naturally, he would have power over me. I remembered song lyrics I'd heard years ago: It's a thief in the night, to come and grab you... A disease of the mind, it can control you... The thought of Flippy having some sort of power over me brought those lyrics to mind.

"I can tell, because whatever I tell you to do, even if it might be life-threatening, you always do it," continued Flippy. "You're like a dog on a leash. Although you're a lot more timid. You're like... a frightened little porcupine." Flippy laughed. "And I'm like a great big bear that pushes you around. Am I right in saying that?"

"Y-Yes, I think so," I agreed. He was right; I was like a dog on a leash.

"So... Let's think. Why did you come to work here in the first place? A big dismal house like this doesn't seem right for you."

"W-Well, when a mucker girl turns fourteen, they have to start looking for work. My Mother taught me a bit about cooking and cleaning so I decided housekeeping might be a good job for me. And then, I saw the advert and signed up. I-I was the only one who did so, I got the job and... Well, here I am."

"I see. And where's your Mother now?"

"Sh-She's... dead," I whispered. I hated talking about my Mother. And I most definitely didn't want to talk about her in front of Flippy of all people.

"Hm," said Flippy. He was silent for a minute. I sat, waiting for him to speak again. His hand was clenched tightly around my own. "It appears we're more similar than we think neko. My Mother is dead too."

"How-?"

"We don't talk about it," interrupted Flippy. "Now, I'm off to bed, neko. See you around."

I felt him lift his hand away, and I whispered, "Good night."

I woke to the sound of humming from Flippy's room. I lay listening for a minute or two until he stopped, smiling. I liked hearing him like that, although I wasn't exactly sure why. It seemed to make him normal, more like other humans. Everyone hums, don't they? I know I did all the time when I worked, or when I had to think.

I got up, brushing myself down before starting another day's work. I seemed to be working a lot faster today, although the pain in my arms was still there. Nevertheless I powered my way upwards, and found myself faced with a locked door on the second-highest floor. I realized it had been locked a long time ago, long before I arrived here, or Giggles. Possibly even before Lammy arrived. There was that much dust coating the door, the handle was a small lump of grey protruding from the faded wood. I blew gently, and a layer of dust fell from it, hitting the floor.

I looked around, but found no one nearby. I began removing layer after layer of dust from the door, the wood starting to show through. I found the door handle and twisted. The door clicked open and I was looking at a dark, ice-cold room. This too was surrounded in dust, furniture hidden beneath layers of it, like the door. Cobwebs were strewn along the ceiling, stretching from one wall to the next. A shattered light bulb lay on the floor, above it a lampshade hanging from a thin piece of string.

I could see my breath in front of me thanks to the cold. Compared with the general warmth of the house, the room was like walking into Antarctica. I jumped at a slight movement in the corner.

"H-H-Hello?" I breathed.

A rat skittered past my feet and I suppressed a scream, clamping my hand over my mouth. It ran down the stairs at full speed, and I prayed it wouldn't get me in trouble. Walking in here, I felt I was already on the verge of being fired. I didn't want to be blamed for letting rats run loose.

"Just keep walking, Flaky," I whispered to myself. I took another step inside the dark. I wished there was a light; the dark was starting to bother me. Even so, I kept walking, trying to breathe steadily and not make too much noise. Every few seconds I looked over my shoulder. The more I looked, the more I wanted to turn back. But I kept going, avoiding stepping on creaking floorboards and looking out for any rats.

I froze at a scratching noise, and saw two pairs of eyes looking up at me from the floor. I moved away from the rats and listened to them run out into the corridor by me. I brushed aside some dust from what looked like... a toy car? It was faded red and one of the wheels were missing from it. There was a thin gold line along each side, and plastic window panes, one of which was missing.

The car was atop a box that looked to be full of toys and books. Most of the books had yellowed over time but some of the titles were still visible: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn; Treasure Island. The toys were old; they looked to be for a young boy. Train carriages and small buses, spinning tops and wind-up soldiers. The box looked full to the brim with toys, but I didn't have time to look at them all.

Another box of clothes lay close by. This was full of old tracksuit bottoms, shirts and jumpers and the occasional pair of shoes. Odd socks were everywhere, most of them full of holes. The jumpers had loose stitches around the hems, and jeans were frayed at the ends. It was as if someone had moved here, only the stuff was old and worn instead of new and shiny.

I stopped dead at the back of the room. A bundle of clothes was piled in a heap. And, just visible, was a slim finger peeking out from under a jacket. My breath escaped me in a noise of surprise mingled with horror.

Despite my disgust, I began stripping away the clothes, layers of jackets followed by layers of jeans. Whoever it was under these clothes had been hidden well. I removed the final layer of jumpers, throwing the last one over my shoulder. And then I gasped, and stumbled backwards, knocking a book from an ancient shelf.

A woman's blank, staring face looked up into my eyes without blinking. Long, forest-green hair was scattered messily along her face, splayed out around her. Her thin red lips were parted in an expression of shock, eyebrows raised. She wore a plain, pale green shirt, the top button undone. Black, skin-tight jeans had once clung to her legs, now loose. The woman's pale skin was too pale now, tinged with green. Her fingers looked too thin underneath her rotting skin. One hand was lying across her chest, held to her heart. The other lay to the side, fingers spread as if she was about to push herself up. But she wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

The most noticeable thing about the woman was her eyes. Underneath black lashes, she stared up at the ceiling, but I knew she wasn't seeing anything. The most striking thing about her eyes was the colour. A vivid orange-gold colour. Golden eyes...

Golden eyes just like Flippy's.

A.N. So, this was a pretty short chapter. Sorry about that but like I said, I have almost no time to myself anymore. And now, I'm off to face a mountain of homework. Until next time!