My Life As A Maid
A.N. Well, I'm back to this sooner than I expected! Hopefully I'll be able to come up with something half-decent for you guys, because I'm so confused right now. I thought I would be able to think clearly. I have a ton of studying to do and I'm not doing a good job of it so far... So, let's see how this will work out!
"Insane?" Flippy asked, a half-smile playing around on his face. One of his eyes twitched a little as he spoke. "You think I'm insane?"
It had taken him a minute or so to actually respond to what I'd said. But, I wasn't complaining. The only thing I wanted right now was to leave this house, and go far away. No, wait. I didn't want to go. I needed to go. I'd had too much of Flippy and his sadistic games, too much of his downcast father. Too much of everything to do with this house.
I should have followed what Giggles had done, and Lammy. I should have left much, much sooner. I could find a job in a better house and actually be able to work, without constantly looking over my shoulder for fear that someone was watching, or waiting.
Too late for all of that now, though. I'd stayed too long. I'd let too many things go wrong. I'd hurt people I barely knew, even if not directly. I'd been manipulated into joining Flippy in causing mayhem. Mayhem that I could have stopped, if I was just a little braver. If I wasn't so ridiculously frightened all the time, if-
Wait. What was I saying? Sure, I wasn't the bravest of people. But I wasn't a psychopath either. I wasn't twisted; I didn't enjoy other people's pain. Flippy was that person, the one that was responsible for the small cuts that decorated my wrists and the bruises on my forearms, the one who had made me cry.
And not only had he made me cry on numerous occasions, but every time he did, he sat and watched. He'd told me to look up into his own eyes so he could look at the tears falling, with that amused smile on his face. Worst of all, I'd let him kiss me. Not just once, either. Twice. I stood shaking while he kissed me, did nothing to stop him. I hadn't tried to pull away or protest.
The real question was: why? Why had I let him?
I told myself it was because I knew what he was capable of. I could be fired in a heartbeat. And at the time, that was what mattered. Keeping my job and trying not to draw too much attention. And then of course, I ran into him on the top floor. And it had happened. And, in that small moment between us, he had maintained his calm demeanour and I remembered thinking he seemed... human.
I suppose that in a way, part of him was human. The normal side of him. He'd been nice to me before. We'd chatted briefly now and then. In those times, I genuinely liked him and enjoyed his company. And if he was always like that I might have even considered him as a friend. If it wasn't for his split personality.
My thoughts were interrupted by Flippy.
"I suppose you're right," he said slowly. "Maybe... I've been called insane before, by a lot of people, because of my rather... violent outbursts. Father, our butler, Madame Talbot. All those have said it to me more times than you'd think. And then, of course, Giggles and Lammy. Though, Lammy couldn't say much, her being a little unhinged herself. And now you, Flaky. You've finally gathered up the courage to call me insane. Well done, Flaky, well done."
He clapped his hands theatrically, advancing towards me with a quick stride. I found myself coming in contact with the wall, unable to move back any further. Flippy stopped when he heard a noise downstairs, most likely the butler walking around. He frowned for a split second but regained his composure.
"But, do you know who said I was insane the most of all?" he asked. "Take a guess, Flaky."
I took my time answering, but even then I stammered. "I-I really don't know, F-Flippy. P-Please, I just..."
He watched me steadily, with the same small smile on his face the whole time. "I'll give you a hint, if you like. She called me sick. Twisted. Unstable. Oh, she called me so many things. All the time, every day. She would look at me, and would tell me that I was a monster. She once said that I was evil hiding under the mask of a little boy. Do you know who it is, Flaky? I think I've given you enough information to come up with a guess."
I already knew, before he'd finished. The girl –or rather, the woman- he was talking about was... his mother. His mother, whose corpse lay decomposing in the same room we stood in.
Putting the answer with what Flippy had told me, I felt a multitude of emotions all at once. Anger was the first one I could distinguish. I had never been the type of person who angered easily, but the thought of a mother saying those things to a young boy, her own child, was reason enough to be furious.
I felt pity, of course, for Flippy. Having to put up with things like that said to him, I actually felt truly sorry for him.
The next thing I felt was, to my surprise, suspicion. Was Flippy lying to me, to purposefully make me believe he'd had a rough life as a child?
"I..."
"Don't know what to say?" Flippy finished for me with another haunting smile. His eyes flashed in amusement when I nodded. "Let me tell you a story, sweetheart. Sit down."
I looked at the floor with a blank expression. Sit? Where on earth was I supposed to sit?
I jumped when I felt Flippy's icy hand lock around my wrist. He pulled me down with him and we landed with a thump on the dusty floor. I coughed as the dust drifted over us. Flippy grinned again; each seemed wider than the last.
We looked as if we were two friends playing around somewhere they shouldn't be. If we had been any younger, I think we'd have looked exactly like that image. I watched Flippy anxiously. He sat almost perfectly still. His eyes seemed to glow a little in the faint light coming from the hall.
"Flaky?"
It was the butler's voice. I looked at Flippy to see what he would say. His hand slid across the floor and took mine, holding tightly. I flinched.
Flippy put a finger to his lips, and shook his head slowly. No. You have to stay here.
I looked to the door for a long moment. Finally, I turned back to Flippy. He didn't let go of my hand.
"Let's get on with that story, hm?" he asked, but he wasn't expecting an answer.
"O-Okay," I whispered. Flippy smirked.
"Why so quiet? It's a good story."
He sat up straighter and took his beret off with his free hand, tossing it to one side. "Here it goes. When I was just ten years old, still pretty young, I had some knowledge of knives. Knife-throwing, to be specific. I was very good, not likely to miss a target. I used to practise in the gardens with the small trees. Everyone, of course, disapproved of my little hobby, but it was something I was talented at. Do you see what I'm saying?"
I'd been listening in silence, watching his face for any changes in emotion. I found none; Flippy's face was devoid of emotion. He watched me too, waiting for me to speak up. There was a hint of impatience in his tone.
"I-I think so," I said. Flippy nodded.
"It was a break. A break from all the 'do this, do that' crap that everyone gave me. Always telling me how to live my life. Always making me do things I didn't want to. So I could honour my family and gain respect from other families. But, I didn't care what they thought about us. I wasn't bothered with making my family look good. Why live a lie? Far from perfect, I'll say."
"Why?" I didn't realized I'd asked until Flippy started talking again.
"Mother and Father never got along. Always arguing over the smallest of things. The only noises I ever heard when I was inside were the slamming of doors, and the butler muttering under his breath. He was assigned the task of looking after me. I guess I gave him a hard time. I rarely listened to what he said, and even them, I did my best to irritate him. Poor guy.
"But now, back to the important things. My Mother was celebrating her thirty-fourth birthday that same year, a month after my eleventh. It was to be held here in the house, which didn't actually look much different, aside from some minor details. Same big table and the like. There were plenty of preparations made, decorations and food, all the usual stuff. Like the party we had here. Fun, am I right?"
"I-I guess..."
"Heh. Well, Mother and her friends were having a good time, talking about whatever it is women found interesting, I suppose. Father was, as usual, discussing business and money-making with some other fools. And I was out in our garden, still messing around with knives, and making targets of small animals, now. Just squirrels, and on some occasions a bird."
I shuddered. Flippy seemed to feel it too.
"I thought you had to hunt those things when you were young," said Flippy, eyebrows raised.
"I only killed animals when it was necessary," I replied, with a little more disgust than I'd intended. I had stuck to picking berries and edible plants. It was only in the heart of winter that I made myself kill. Flippy's expression darkened.
"You too," he muttered. "You've already started hating me."
I could feel my mouth opening and closing repeatedly, about to deny it, but couldn't bring myself to say anything. The butler called again, closer this time, but I was only dimly aware of his voice.
"Anyways," Flippy continued. "The butler, Jerome, was sent to bring me inside. And, well, I kicked up a fuss. I kicked and I protested. Mother, she... she took me from Jerome and made a show of me. My mother, who was always telling me to make us look good. The same mother who took me by the collar and displayed me in front of her friends like a useless toy. She scolded me over and over. And... then she hit me. I barely felt it, it was just a light smack across the cheek but... It made me so angry."
As much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't stop shaking. Flippy squeezed my hand gently and I looked down at them. One small and shivering, the other pale and firm. Flippy went on with his story.
"When she hit me, I just acted on instinct. I didn't think. I was so sick of always being limited, having to represent our family and make us look good. Sick of my parents and the view on life they'd brought upon me. So much more things I hated about our family, but those were the most prominent. And all at once, I just let it out. All in one massive burst of negativity, of anger and disgust.
"I turned around and I punched her in the face. Right between the eyes. I think she was unconscious, but I wasn't really aware of it then. Either way, we both went down. I was still firing punches. I didn't care whether she felt them or not –though she probably did- I just needed to vent my anger. I was grabbed pretty quick though, by Father and Jerome. Father kept saying I was a disgrace, that I was a worthless boy. I didn't listen; I was too consumed by my own anger at the time to care what he thought of me."
"Wh-What happened to her?" I asked, though I was afraid I already knew the answer. Flippy looked at me without saying a word and gave me a sad smile.
"The next day I was told she was in a coma," he said, glancing over at his mother's body. "After a week I was allowed to go in and actually see her. I never cried before, Flaky. When I was a baby, and I needed something, I would cry. But I'd never experienced anything like this. And when I saw her lying there, I was filled with regret.
"And, another week after that, Jerome came to my room late at night. I asked him if Mother was awake yet. He took his time answering, but eventually, he just said, 'She's never going to wake up.'"
I looked at Flippy, his eyes shining. Not with malice, but with the tears that were about to roll down his cheeks. I was speechless, sitting quietly with him in the near-darkness.
After what felt like an eternity, I spoke up again. Flippy looked at me as soon as I opened my mouth. He looked as if he was desperate for pity. And, I realised, he really was. He wanted someone to love and accept him.
But... I couldn't bring myself to be that person. Not after hearing that.
"I..." I tried clearing my throat and finally managed to say what I'd been meaning to say for a while. "I can't do this, Flippy. I just can't... It's time for me to go."
A.N. Aaaaaaand, bam! I hope you liked it! It was kind of suck-ish and a little rushed. Was it worth updating? I'm not too sure...
Also, TryingToFindTime, I couldn't respond to your review, so here:
I'm glad you're liking this! And, I tend to make up things as I go along; I'm not good at planning...