The Twist In Life

Chapter 5_ Perk of being the slave!

I was lost in the fascinating world of Antarctica when my battered old cell phone vibrated in my jeans pocket. I found myself back in my room, lying on my tummy with 'The Quest' opened up in front of me. I pulled out my phone quickly.

If I am crazy about something, it's cell phones. I pick up each and every call, read and reply each and every text at once. Even if there are only a few each day from my cousins. It's not that I'm a lovely cousin, it's just an obsession.

I pressed the jammed keys to open the inbox. I don't have awesome phones like my cousins. Mine is not even screen touch. Aunt gave it to me on my fifteenth birthday and ordered me to take great care of it as it was my late uncle's phone. I mean, how low can a person get? But as I love my uncle, I kept it.

The loading completed and the ugly loading bar vanished. At last, I was able to read the text. It said:

'This is Lisa. I have a message for you from Hilda. She wants you to go and see her, immediately. Or else...' _L

Great! Now I would have to leave the book due to that ugly snob. I shut the book with a snap and got up, hoping aunt wouldn't see me going... Going where?

That good for nothing Lisa did not tell me where to go.

I texted her back:

'Where?' _M

'Oh, so you're coming?' _L

'Yes, but only because I want to get a bit of fresh air, not because I have to come.' _M

'Yeah right.' _L

'Just tell me where to go.' _M

'Her house, you idiot. Where else?' _L

I put my phone into my pocket again and tiptoed outside. I had no means of transport and so I half ran, half walked all the way to her house. It's more of a mansion really.

There are huge iron gates which open into a big drive. There are ten garages in which cars of latest models are parked. Every car has a 24" T.V, a cold drink machine, a hot drink machine and an ice cream machine with all kinds of flavours. There is a specific driver for each car.

Can you believe it? Three of them belong to Hilda. I've never seen all this, but I've heard quite a lot about it, more from wannabe Lisa than anyone else. There are also many other stories and rumours about the mansion, I don't know how many of them are true, guess I'm about to find out.

I walked briskly to the mansion gates. They really were beautiful. The gatekeeper eyed me with disgust, looking at my dirty old snickers, pale blue top and faded jeans.

"Mr. Francis doesn't give charity money to people who ask for it at his gates. He goes to charity dinners and donate money to people who actually need it. Very generously too," he said pompously.

"I'm not here for charity," I said angrily.

"And why, I may ask, you're here?" he asked pompously, again.

"Aren't you a bit pompous for a low wage gatekeeper?" I asked angrily.

"Don't you try to mess with me," he snapped.

"I'm here due to a personal matter. Let me in," I snapped back.

"Oh, you're a servant of some kind then, in need of a job," he said.

"I'm not anyone's servant, or slave," I added.

"But you do look like one," he said.

"That's it! I'm leaving. And when Hilda asks me, I'll tell her that I left because of you. So there," I said and turned to go.