My Life As A Maid

A.N. Update again! I suddenly found inspiration to work on this again, after all. I just noticed the amount of people begging for me to continue this; I will always continue my stories unless I say different, so there's no need to worry! So let's see what happens!

Flippy's expression darkened immediately. But, before he could open his mouth to speak, I turned and ran out of the room without thinking twice about it. My usual cowardice had vanished, replaced by adrenaline and the need to get away from this house and the people in it. I'd had enough of this place.

I stopped myself from crashing into a wall and readied myself for an escape. I heard Flippy snarl in annoyance. No more than half a second later, he was on the chase. I rushed down the stairs, almost tripping on the way down. The butler, Jerome, on his way upstairs, stopped in surprise. He pressed himself to the side of the wall and I zipped past him, turning towards the next flight. Flippy followed soon after, giving the butler a shove to get him out of the way.

"Flaky!" he called. "Don't be stupid!"

I cried out in pain when he grabbed my wrist, digging his nails in hard, as I moved to run down the stairs. In desperation, I kicked out and managed to hit his shin. However, it proved useless; Flippy probably didn't even register it. The only response I got was a frustrated grunt before he reached to grab my other wrist.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, trembling, and squeezed my eyes shut as I drove my fist into his middle as hard as I could.

He let go of me almost instantly, and cursed under his breath, stumbling back a step. He quickly regained his composure, though, as I had anticipated. I wasted no time, and turned away to begin running down the stairs again. It wasn't long before I heard Flippy's footsteps again, though.

"Come back here, Flaky!" he shouted after me. "Just listen to me, for God's sake!"

"Leave me alone!" I screamed, not caring about who heard me. Fear was beginning to take hold of me. I had to get out of here or I would faint from sheer terror. Flippy kept calling, snarling in frustration as he pursued me.

I continued hurtling down steps, trying to block out his voice. I got to the last few steps and took a jump. I landed clumsily in a crouch and propelled myself towards the front doors, threw them open, and dashed outside. My lungs were burning, but I didn't dare stop.

A gust of wind helped me on my way out. I ran along the path leading away from the house, and was at the front gate within seconds. My breathing was ragged; I braced myself for another long run. I looked back over my shoulder with wide eyes and flung the gate open upon seeing Flippy, still running towards me, furious. I slammed the gate shut and rounded the nearest corner I could find onto a busy market street.

I turned and peered around the wall at the house once more. I gave a start when I caught sight of Flippy, standing outside his house, looking right at me with those bright, bright eyes. Those eyes that seemed to be able to see into a person's very soul. He said nothing at all, did nothing. Just stared and stared.

The way he looked at me said one thing. I will always find you.

I jumped when he smiled softly and lifted a finger to point at me. I stumbled back and almost fell, watching him warily, but he started retreating back to the house. Still he kept his gaze on me, unwavering. I forced myself to look elsewhere, at anything that could provide an escape route.

It was only when I looked down at my black shoes that I realized I had nowhere to go now. Whether I liked it or not, that house was where I had lived. I had virtually nothing now. I came from a tent in the countryside, but I had no one there, no one who could help me start anew.

"What did I do?" I whispered to no one in particular, still looking down at my shoes. Someone elbowed me as they bustled past but I barely felt them. "Why did all of this happen to me?"

I looked at the white shirt I wore, the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. Some faint bruises still remained, reminders of what had happened to me during my time there. My arms still ached. I recalled all those nights 'playing games' at the laundry chute until I could hardly feel my arms, as they would have been completely numb. I looked at my knees peeking out under the skirt of my uniform, at the brown-ish markings left from being forced to kneel down while Flippy experimented.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, already feeling sick from recalling the terrifying games, the time stretching on until Flippy finally released me.

There were good times too, I suppose. Rare, rare moments. The time we danced was enjoyable, I'd let myself forget about the darker edge Flippy had. Yes, there was times when he was kind to me. I remembered singing with him before his father caused him to change again. When he wasn't busy being insane, he seemed like someone who could easily make friends and have a good time.

But, now that I thought about it, there were a lot of small moments with Flippy that I had enjoyed while he was still his cruel, taunting self. Once, he defended me against Madame Talbot, and decided not to play games. Despite myself, I still viewed it as a kind gesture. And then, he had kissed me twice...

What? No, no, no. How on earth did I find those enjoyable?

"Get it together," I muttered. "First things first. I need somewhere to stay."

I looked up at the sky, clear blue with not a cloud in sight. Where could I go?

"Petunia," I said quietly, eyebrows raised. Petunia would let me stay in her house until I had somewhere to go, wouldn't she? Either way, she was the only option for now, it seemed. Until I calmed myself down and got another job, I could stay there. The real question was whether I would be able to calm down.

I started off along the street, glancing at stalls lined with goods now and then. I'd known the way to Petunia's house since I was little, but I never had much reason to go there. We'd always spent our days outside, anyway.

I stopped when I nearly bumped into a thin boy with light blue hair. He turned to look at me and adjusted his thick glasses; his blue eyes were wide. He wore a white shirt and black trousers, and was carrying a bundle of books.

"Oh," he said. "Sorry for getting in your way."

"N-No, it's fine," I replied hastily, eager to get off the streets and to Petunia. I moved to walk past him, but he just started talking again.

"Are you from around here?" he asked.

"Ah, no. If you'll excuse me-"

"I'll give you directions, if you like," he offered. "I'm called Sniffles. If-"

"It was nice to meet you, Sniffles, but I really have to go," I interrupted; visions of Flippy chasing after me had already started circling around my mind. I thought I was going to go crazy.

I didn't let him get another word in; I just took off at a jog towards the outskirts of the city. After a few minutes I'd left the bustling town and was navigating through the quieter streets where Petunia lived. All the houses here looked the same, only the numbers above each door told them apart.

At long last, I reached her front door. It wasn't an extraordinary house, like Flippy's, but it was its simplicity that made it so likeable. It was a house you could walk into and feel welcome no matter what your situation. Which was just what I needed.

I knocked hesitantly, and then louder. The door swung open and Petunia looked at me, surprised. I didn't wait for her to say anything, however rude it might have seemed. I let myself go completely and hugged her tightly, tears streaming down my face.

"Flaky," she said, taken aback. "What's wrong? Shouldn't you be working? I thought..."

"Y-You have t-to help me, P-Petunia," I whisper. "Please, j-just for a little while. I-I just need a n-new job. C-Can I please s-stay here?"

"Well of course you can, but what's going on?" She took my arm and held me in place, looking at me like she was inspecting me.

I opened my mouth to tell her about everything that had happened since I first took a step inside that house, about all the things I'd put up with, about Flippy and his mother. I wanted to tell her everything. But not a single word came out. Instead of my own thoughts and memories being in control, I heard the same thing over and over, saw the same things flashing in front of my eyes.

Piercing, amber eyes. Unnaturally sharp teeth. Forest green hair, hidden by a green beret. Checked green patterns slashed with the colour of dark denim. Then the laundry chute. His hand. His knife. The bruises. Everything that reminded me of Flippy swirled around in my mind, blocking out everything I was going to say.

His voice echoed around me as if it was coming from all directions, trying to break me in two. It was a struggle to keep myself standing upright. Only Petunia's arm kept me up. But she could do nothing to stop his voice, pounding against my skull.

"I don't like it when people spread news about me, sweetheart. It usually ends up badly for them."

I felt myself trembling, my nerves were scattered and I grab onto Petunia's other arm. I couldn't tell her. If I told Petunia, she'd tell someone and Flippy would find out. And then he'd kill both of us.

On impulse, I lie. "I-I was f-fired."

Petunia raises an eyebrow. "Really? You sound pretty worked up. What did you do?"

"I-I guess I j-just wasn't working w-well enough for th-their liking."

Petunia looked at me for a long moment as if she was about to send me away, but she just shrugs. "Okay then, you can stay here until you get a new job. I'll help you on your way. Now, first things first, let's get you out of those clothes."

I nodded shakily, and followed her inside, exhausted and paranoid. More images floated around in my head. I hardly noticed the interior of the house or how well-kept it was. Most of the furniture was simple and plain, and there were picture frames all along the halls and in every room. I never saw any pictures in Flippy's house.

The mere thought of Flippy's house sent chills down my back and I couldn't help shaking. Petunia didn't notice as she led the way into her room. It was spotless, as neat as could be. Her bed was in the middle; her blue covers didn't have a single crease on them. On two of the walls there were mirrors, one small and one full-body. I caught a look at my face and stopped with a gasp.

My eyes, which had always been wide, resembled dinner plates. They were the eyes of prey. My skin was ivory white, and I had purple-blue rings under my eyes. I looked like I'd seen a ghost. But, I'd seen something much worse than a ghost. I looked at my arms and found something I hadn't noticed before.

There was a long curve on my forearm, just a faint pink line. I wouldn't even have noticed it if I hadn't stopped to analyze myself. It started at my wrist and stopped halfway along my forearm. Someone's nail had dragged along my skin and had left me with a scar. I didn't even have to think who it was, I'd known as soon as I saw it. Flippy had scarred me both mentally and physically.

I whispered, "Oh, God."

And then I fell to the floor.

A.N. Gah, I wanted this to be longer but... I don't know. What do you think? I've taken a long break from this, I know. Hope it was worth updating!