A Gun To My Heart

24

I walk down the hallway, ready to sit at the same dull table with everyone. One of the maids braided my hair flawlessly with the same red silk ribbon in it. I never asked for their names. They never talk, because they fear me. They're afraid that I'm going to be like my mom.

Just like Aries.

It seems like multiple people in Sarjia are afraid of my mom. But, I can't understand why. Every time she's in front of people, she acts like she's this kind person. It looks real, too.

So, why do people still fear her? Where do they get that information from?

I open the tall door and see an unfamiliar face sitting next to Aries.
"Good morning. Took you long enough, " mom says without lifting her gaze to me. I smile apologetically walking over to the long table. My long, white dress flows gracefully in the air.

"Did you sleep well?" Aries asks smiling. I still see the dark bags under his eyes. It looks like his maid tried to cover them with concealer. He notices me examining him and quickly breaks eye contact.

"Yes."
Make him fall in love with you.
Her words stick to my thoughts. Everything reminds me of her. My eyes drift towards the girl next to Aries. Her hair is curly and dark red. The second she meets my eyes, I don't let my guard drop.

"I'm Azia, nice to meet you Maeve." Her voice is sharp, just like her features. She reminds me of Azariella. I nod and eat the cold food on my plate.

"Are you visiting?"

"Yeah. I'm going to stay here for three days. It's been a while since I've hung out with Aries." She smiles for herself. I look at him. His face is the same neutral. I want to know what he's thinking.
I want to know what the relationship is between those two. Have they known each other for long?

Calix and mom leave the table, letting servants clean up their plates. They look miserable in their blue clothes. I've never seen one of the workers here smile once. The only thing I see over and over again is the same facial expression. Everyone that works here, whether they're cleaning bedrooms or washing dishes. They all look so sad.

One of the servants is now next to me, struggling to balance the plates. I help him. Aries and Azia's gaze linger on us. Shocked by my action. The guy stops for a second too. I stack the plates and glass together, smiling at the teenager.

He hesitates to smile back. "Thank you," I almost whisper, letting him know that someone appreciates his work. Letting him know that he's not just some robot no one cares about. Letting him know that someone cares.

I continue to eat as he walks away trying not to lose everything he has in his hands. They continue to look at me in shock. I want to roll my eyes at them.
"Is everything ok?" My words make Aries tear his eyes from me, and continue to enjoy his food in silence.

Azia on the other hand proceeds to stare at me in disbelief. I finally drop the steel fork looking at her. "Do you want to tell me something?" The words remain in the air, as she tries to find the words she wants to use. Something Aries usually does too.

"Why did you help him? It's his job." I tilt my head, stunned by her statement.

'It's his job.'
'It's his job.'
'It's his job.'
Her disgusting words replay in my mind.
Aries sees my rage and tries to find a way to calm me down. He searches for my eyes, trying to make eye contact. Though, I don't let him. I keep mine facing her, wanting to make her feel the misery every worker here feels.

"That 15-year-old's job is to clean plates and serve us all day. A 15-year-old shouldn't have to do that. He should be with his friends and family. He should go to school.
Instead, he's here because of people like us. People like you keep these people living in misery."

Her lip twitches as the grip around her butter knife get tighter. Her knuckles start to become white. It reminds me of the day I threw mine at Maddox in anger. How my anger took control of me. She doesn't let it control her. Instead, she smiles at me, fighting every urge to scream in my face. Informing me of how pathetic I sound.

"Without workers like him here, our places would be dirty all the time. We need him as much as he needs us. If we didn't offer him this job, he would live in poverty."

I snicker at her little speech.
"He would live in poverty, because of the systems people like you created. If something you own gets dirty, then clean it yourself. It's not that difficult to wash clothes or dishes."

I stand up from my chair, taking my plate and glass of water with me, as I leave the room feeling her glare at my back. I walk into the kitchen in my dress probably worth more than their life. Everyone stops, looking up from whatever they were doing. Their clothes match.

"Hi." My voice almost echoes in the room because of the silence in here. I try to smile, but they're too scared to smile back. Their eyes switch between my face and the dishes in my hand.

"Where do I put this?"
Some exchange glances, until the same teenager steps in front of me. He barely smiles, and it makes me happy. "Follow me, Miss Ambrose." His steps are small, and he continues to pick at his fingers.

I walk through the quiet kitchen and pass multiple workers. They almost look like statues. "You can call me Maeve," I say and he looks at me. His face is lit up and we're now in a dark room. There are two large sinks, on the left side and multiple machines on the wall, on the right side.

It looks very clean but bland. The floor and walls don't have the same color as the rest of the place. Instead, it's grey tiles everywhere. The places people don't see are nowhere near as pretty, as the other places.

I walk over to the sink, starting to clean the plate and glass in my hand. The teenager watches my every move, probably wondering why I'm doing this. "What's your name?" I ask as the cold water runs around my hand. He gets more relaxed and comfortable around me as every second passes.

"My name is Lucas." The old light over us flickers as I put some soap into the water.
"How old are you?"
"I'm 13."

13.

"What do you like to do in your free time?" I dry my hands on the white towel hanging by the door. His gaze is set on the floor.
"I like to draw."

I slowly nod my head watching him. He continues to pick at his fingers. I walk closer, holding his hands. Examining his fingers. They're all teared up, leaving small wounds on them. He almost flinches at my cold touch.

"Does it hurt?" I ask carefully, as I look at his hand. He slowly nods.

"It hurts a little, but only sometimes." His voice is quiet, and his hair is messy, blonde, and short.
"Do you have any friends here?"
He nods his head again.
"Who?"
"Melody and Noah."
I tilt my head as I smile at him.

"How often do you see your family?"

The light in his eyes is immediately put off.
"I don't know... it's been a long time since I saw them."

It feels like my heart falls out of my chest, aching. He's so young and is spending his time here alone, cleaning and serving people all day. I look away from his eyes as the silence fills the room.

"Thank you for showing me to this room." I stand up look at everything one last time. As I walk away ready to open the door, he stops me.

"M-Maeve?"

I turn to him, wondering what he'll say.

"Would you consider us friends now?"

I chuckle at his question, leaving him confused.
"Of course, Lucas."