His cruel words

Chapter 6:

I was abruptly awakened by a loud knock on my bedroom door. Groggily, I stumbled out of bed, feeling disoriented and unsure of where I was. The events of the past few days seemed to jumble up in my mind, making it difficult to grasp reality. A sharp pang of pain shot through me as I remembered my parents, but before I could fully process my emotions, I heard the butler's voice, demanding to be let in.

" Miss, open the door at once !"

In a rush, I hurried towards the door, my heart pounding with anxiety. I flung it open, revealing James standing there with a disappointed expression on his face. His reprimanding words stung as they cut through the early morning silence.

"You won't last long in this house if you keep sleeping so late, Miss," he scolded sternly.

"Gosh, I'm really sorry," I mumbled, guilt and frustration mingling in my voice. "I promise I'll fix my sleeping habits."

Reluctantly, James instructed me to join Willow, the housemaid, in the laundry room.

"Willow will show you the ropes," he said, his voice forbidding any further protest. "Make sure you learn from her."

As I closed the door behind me, I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. I needed a moment alone to process everything that had just happened, the disappointment from James and the dread of facing Willow.

With each step towards the laundry room, my feet felt heavy, weighed down by the anticipation of what awaited me. Willow had been particularly mean to me the day before.

Now, I had to face her again. My stomach churned with nervousness as I approached the laundry room door. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open and stepped inside.

Willow was standing by a row of washing machines, a disapproving scowl etched onto her face. She glanced at me and shook her head, as if to say, "You're not worth my time."

"Late, I see. Do you even know how to do anything on your own?" she asked, her tone dripping with disdain. "You're lucky James vouched for you or else you'd be out on the streets."

I swallowed hard as resentment and humiliation washed over me. The urge to retort bubbled inside, but I knew I had no choice but to endure her presence and learn the task at hand.

Gathering my courage, I mustered a weak smile and tried to break the ice. "Morning, Willow. I'm really sorry I was so tired. I'll make sure to be on time from now on."

She looked at me skeptically, her eyes darting over my disheveled appearance. "Well, I hope you're serious . We have a lot of work to do, and I don't have time to babysit."

Her words stung, but I was determined to prove myself. I nodded earnestly. "I understand, Willow. I'll do my best."

She grunted in response, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see."

"Alright, let me explain how this washing machine works," Willow began, her tone dripping with superiority.

I braced myself for what was sure to be a condescending lecture. "Go ahead," I said, trying to sound unaffected.

She launched into a tirade about delicate fabrics and the crucial step of avoiding soaking them. "And let me warn you," she sneered, "Mrs. Miller's expensive navy blue dress is in here. It's practically her prized possession, so don't you dare ruin it."

As Willow finished her spiel, she turned to leave, clearly indicating she had no intention of being helpful or supportive. Just before she disappeared, she couldn't resist adding one last patronizing remark. "I'll be checking on you occasionally to see if you've made any progress. But honestly, I don't have high hopes for someone like you."

Left alone in the laundry room, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to prepare myself for the challenges ahead. It was clear that dealing with Willow's mean-spirited presence would be a constant obstacle. But I was determined to prove her wrong – to show her that not only could I handle this task, but I could also thrive in this unfamiliar and unforgiving environment.

I stood there, completely fascinated by the assortment of machines and devices that had been invented just for the purpose of washing clothes, this pack was really amazing. Memories of my childhood flooded my mind as I recalled how my friends Sunshine and Sunrise and I used to bang our clothes against the stones at the river to get them clean. But now, here I was, surrounded by these contraptions that promised to make life easier.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I had completely forgotten Willow's explanations on how to use the washing machine. I glanced around, hoping to find her, but she was nowhere to be seen. In that moment, I found solace in a silent prayer to the Moongoddess, hoping that somehow I would remember what to do.

Taking a deep breath, I gathered all the clothes and placed them carefully into the machine. With a nervous anticipation, I pressed the button to start it, hoping for the best. But a few minutes later, a wave of doubt washed over me, and I remembered the instructions mentioning the need to pause the machine. Without a second thought, I hit the stop button, unsure if I had done it correctly.

As I began removing the clothes from the machine, a sense of pride welled up within me.

" I'm actually doing this! Yeahhh!" I exclaimed proudly.

But my triumph was short-lived as I reached for Mrs. Miller's dress and realized it had shrunk. Panic took hold of me, and in that very moment, I heard the familiar sound of Willow's footsteps crossing the threshold of the door.

"By the silvermoon!" I exclaimed panicked.

I quickly gathered my wits, desperately trying to pull myself together. With shaky hands, I swiftly removed the shrunken dress from the pile of wet clothes and discreetly tossed it behind the washing machine. Hoping Willow wouldn't notice its disappearance, I took a deep breath as she entered the room, offering her apology for taking so long.

"Oh, don't worry about it," I replied, mustering a smile. "I managed just fine on my own."

As Willow glanced around the laundry room, her sharp eyes darting back and forth, I felt my heart skip a beat. But to my immense relief, she seemed oblivious to the missing dress and instead commended me on my work.

"Wow, you actually did a good job this time," she remarked, a note of surprise creeping into her voice.

Keeping up the facade, I nodded modestly, praying she wouldn't catch on to my secret. When we finally finished the chores, Willow's attention momentarily diverted elsewhere, providing me with the perfect opportunity to make my escape with the dress. With a stolen moment of inattention, I seized my chance.

"I'll just go and put away the last few items," I said, my voice sounding deceptively calm.

As I tiptoed out of the laundry room, the dress carefully clutched in my trembling hands, I made my way to the sanctuary of the garden. Finding a secluded spot, I quickly dug a hole in the soft soil and gently buried the dress, hoping it would remain hidden from prying eyes.

"This will have to be our little secret," I whispered to the buried dress, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Feeling a mix of relief and trepidation, I covered the dress with soil, smoothing it over until no trace of my forbidden act remained.

As I made my way back into the laundry room, I turned a corner and unexpectedly came face to face with Christ. My heart jumped in my chest, our eyes locked, and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. He was even more captivating than I had remembered from yesterday.

Summoning up all the courage I had, I stuttered out a hesitant greeting, "Hello, Christ." But to my surprise, his expression twisted into one of disdain and he scoffed, correcting me firmly, "It's Mr.Christopher, not Christ. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that. Ever." His words cut through me, leaving me feeling exposed and small.

As Christopher launched his attack, a wave of humiliation crashed over me, leaving me stunned and defenseless.

"You know," Christopher sneered, "I've seen a lot of ugly things in my life. But you, oh boy, you take the cake." He said then left giving me a disgusted look.

His cruel words pierced my already fragile self-esteem, and I felt myself shrink under the weight of his harsh judgment. I struggled to find the right words to defend myself, but they eluded me.