Peek-a-boo!

"One for you, and one for me," giggles Jayna, handing me a popsicle stick.

The serenity of the room gets abruptly interrupted by a loud crash. The door hits the wall beside to reveal the twin brothers of Jayna. The one with blue irises, Jermaine gasps at the popsicles lying on the floor and in Jayna's hands as he finishes scanning for treasure. He exclaims in his pesky shrill voice, "Hey those are mine!"

"No, Jermaine, Margaret and I got these from the shops an hour ago," bawls Jayna, dragging the other popsicle sticks towards her with the edge of her palm. The way she says it contained an assertiveness that I very much praise.

Jody, the honey-eyed one, teases, "You look ugly when you lie Jayna!"

"I'm not lying!"

"Then why do you look ugly?" hisses Jody.

Stupid kids, stupid boyfriend, stupid life. If only I had trusted my gut and hadn't obeyed him back then, things would have been so so different.

I then begin in my most 'not so tired voice', "Boys, Jayna and I went shopping when you were busy with the guns."

"If Margaret says so," sneers Jody, signalling Jermaine that they had to leave.

Jayna, Jermaine, and Jody were the descendants of the Jamestons. The parents were out of the mansion all the time except when it was bedtime. The kids were looked after by two nannies, including myself, and a homeschooling teacher. None of them is interested in the job but in the money. The pay was just so much for the work, although I can not deny that it's such a tiresome job to look after the kids, particularly the twins.

My phone's alarm rings, prompting me that it's time to go home. I climb downstairs to the servants' room (yes that's what it's called!), resting right outside the huge main door of the mansion. Despite the darkness it's surrounded by, I always find it twinkling. Was it because of the moonlight? Then what would explain its twinkle on the new moon? Susan, the nanny with the 8 p.m. to 8 a.m. shift, is already there filling her locker up with her bags. She smiles at my sight.

"Rough morning, eh?"

I sigh, "Just the regular."

"Well then, I must depart now, I suppose."

I get my stuff out of my locker and head home. My home is a mile away from the mansion shielding my little nine-year-old away from all the possible threats. Jeez, I always forget to credit the actual person. It isn't actually the home doing the job, but my daughter herself, Chloe. A sweet and charming individual, Chloe is unlike most kids of her age. She comprehends emotions and life in a far different way and perhaps understands them better than me.

Chloe was never planned. Her dad, well my ex-boyfriend is this huge pile of crap. Despite knowing she doesn't have a dad, she never asked me about him, like maybe once when she was five, but after that, never. Her dad was seventeen and I was fourteen when we knew we were gonna have Chloe. Even after knowing he'll be a dad, he left me with nothing. Like, nothing.

After I was orphaned when my parents accidentally drowned at a beach, my family forced my father's sister to look after me. Because she did not want a kid, she treated me like a literal bag of trash. And when she found out I was pregnant, she threw me out of the house and everyone else refused to take me in either because no one was financially capable to do so.

Soon after having Chloe, Susan found me on the streets and offered me a job at the Jamestons. I am forever grateful to Susan for that. When Chloe was three, she demonstrated a few wonderful peculiarities which built my faith in her.

I ring the doorbell, and the doors open, revealing my little angel standing on a stool, her gummy smile engraved onto her face.

"Mum!" gushed Chloe. "How did work treat you?"