The Collateral

Home?

I woke up to a start when someone grabbed me by the arm and shook me. My eyes batted my eyes to wear off the sleep. Looking up, I realised it was the billionaire's son.

"Get up, I don't have all day you know", he said with a gruff voice that cut out all the slumber left in me.

I got off the couch. That was when I remembered what happened yesterday. My mouth felt bitter at the mere thought of it. Trading me off like I was some property. I rolled my eyes. (In my head though). I didn't want any trouble with anyone in this... household.

"Come with me", he said bluntly and strided out of the living room.

Today he wore a plain white button down short sleeve with khaki shorts and black slides. His hair was untidy and he was glued to his phone screen.

I found it difficult to catch up since he had a large pace but I eventually did and ended up panting when he stopped. I thought I saw a smile form at the corner of his mouth.

He pointed infront of us. "Here's the cleaning closet. Everything you'd need to make this house spotless. Now get started ".

"Like now? ", I asked, quite surprised.

"Oh no you could begin tomorrow or maybe next week. Of course now. What we're you thinking, next year?", he replied with pure sarcasm in his voice.

Wait, this is a mansion right? So there are supposed to be maids all around. Isn't that how it works?

"Dad fired all the servants. So that's your duty now", he said as if answering my thoughts. "The house ain't gonna clean it self you know. ", he didn't forget to add.

Oh, I thought. This large house? All mine to clean.

I walked over to the closet door and opened it. He was right; Everything I'll need, and more. I took out a duster, broom, a mopper and it's bucket and followed him. He led me back to the living area.

"You'd start here.", he said, almost a whisper as his attention was on his device. He made himself comfortable on a couch as I started to work.

As I mentioned earlier, the house was huge. As I started to clean, I realised it wasn't that big of a deal. Yes, the hall was larger than my dad's rundown apartment but it was clean. As if no one used it and yet it was being cleaned everyday. I dusted of the book shelf by the TV screen and cleaned up the whole set too. I wiped the furniture and the windows. The ones I could reach though. The rest were way too high.

Then I swept and mopped the floors. From there, he just led me from place to place; the dining area, the kitchen, Tech room (Don't ask me what that is. Just a bunch of computers and other modern devices), and some rooms. As I finally finish cleaning the mansion, exhaustion washes over me like a tidal wave. Every muscle in my body ached from the hours of scrubbing, dusting, and polishing. My clothes cling to me, damp with sweat, as I collapse onto a nearby chair, too weary to even remove my gloves.

The grumble of my stomach serves as a harsh reminder of another pressing need - hunger. I realize with a pang that I haven't eaten breakfast. My energy depleted, I feel lightheaded and weak, my stomach protesting with each rumble.

By this time, my "supervisor" is no where to be found. A few moments later, he comes into the hall, his commanding aura spread across the room.

For once he lifts his face of the screen and scans around. "Good", he murmurs.

"If you are hungry, go make something in the kitchen. And do me a favour: don't forget to take a shower. You reek of old socks".

I scoff silently. How did he know the smell of old socks if he doesn't have some. He is probably some selfish hoarder. Okay, maybe I am thinking too much.

I decided to take a shower before doing anything else. Because when he leaves, I sniff my clothes and realize he isn't joking.

I head to the bathroom in the maids' quarters. After taking a shower, I feel refreshed and clean.

When I am done, I get dressed in the bathroom and then head out. A few steps later, I crash into him.

"Watch where you are going Sally", he said.

My name isn't even Sally. And he bumped into me. Obnoxious jerk.

"Uhmm,", he continues. "Can you clean my room for me."

Not like I has a choice. And why would he even asked me after I had finished Bathing.

I picked the cleaning ware again and followed him to his room. It wasn't as messy as I imagined. There were posters of a band I didn't know of on the white walls. His bed was huge with paperwork lying around it. There was a huge wardrobe with a shoe rack next to it. But that was just the first segment. One part had a study desk with a lamp on it. Adjacent to the desk was a shelf filled with books I could only dream of getting. Most of them were storybooks from my favourite author; Veronica soliman. Books I couldn't afford.

"Would you start the cleaning already ", he barked.

I was tossed back to reality. I started the cleaning. When I was done, he had left the room. So I decided to take a sneak-peek at the books.

I brushed my fingers over the hardcover and settled on one. I pulled it out and read the title.

It feels like home, it said.

I opened the first page. Ethan Saunders was written boldly at the top. His name is Ethan.