Chapter Two- Work At Home

The doorbell rang. Chantelle froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She heard her cousin Isabella get up to open the door. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she heard the sound of someone else coming into the house. After a few moments, her uncle came back into the kitchen, followed by his wife. "Chantelle," Rosemary her uncle's wife called out. "Yes ma" She answered."

Chantelle, I need you to get ready for the party. "Don't tell me you've forgotten that today's is Damien birthday". Rosemary said. "No ma'ma I can't forget" . Chantelle said. We're expecting visitors in a few hours, and there's a lot to do." Chantelle looks up from the floor, her hands covered in soap suds. "What do you need me to do?" she asks. Her aunty continues, "You need to vacuum the living room, mop the kitchen floor, and set the table for dinner. " I believe you can handle that cause you've been doing it for years now". Rosemary said. I think the work will be much for me, please I'll be needing help. Chantelle said. "Will you shut it". Rosemary said. We've been feeding, clothing and putting roof under your empty head and you have the strength to say it to me. "Get out". Rosemary shouted. 

As Chantelle ran out, tears kept coming, no matter how hard Chantelle tried to hold them back. She felt so overwhelmed and alone. How could she possibly get everything done in time? And even if she did, what then? She would still be stuck here, under the thumb of her cruel and controlling relatives. The thought made her feel trapped, like a bird in a cage. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. But it was no use. The tears kept coming, and she felt her shoulders shaking with sobs.

Chantelle took a few more deep breaths, trying to steady herself. She knew she had to keep going, had to get through this day and then figure out a way to escape from this place. She turned on the vacuum cleaner and started working on the living room, trying to lose herself in the repetitive motions. But the work only seemed to make her more upset, and she had to stop several times to wipe away the tears that kept coming. Finally, she was done vacuuming, and she moved on to mopping the kitchen floor. It was slow, tedious work, and it seemed to take forever. But at last she was done with everything including cooking. She looked around the kitchen, taking in the clean, shining surfaces. It was a small victory, but it felt good to have accomplished something. She took a deep breath and then went to the dining room to set the table. She carefully laid out the plates and silverware, trying to make everything look just right. She didn't want to give her aunt and uncle any reason to complain about her work. But even as she worked, she couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped. She needed to find a way out of here, but she had no idea how.