Silent Wounds(on hold)

chapter 5|Mrs Mdlalose's wrath

Nontsikelelo

I walked into the servant's quarters, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. For a moment, I almost forgot about Mrs. Madlalose. The sun was setting, casting a soft glow over the yard, and for once, I felt... at peace.

But peace never lasts long for someone like me. As soon as I turned the corner, there she was-Mrs. Madlalose, standing right in front of me with her arms crossed, a sour look on her face.

I froze, my heart sinking. I knew that look. Mrs. Madlalose wasn't someone you could reason with, not when her temper was already this high.

She didn't say a word at first. Her eyes alone could've burned a hole through me. Without warning, she grabbed my arm-tight-and dragged me outside. I wanted to pull away, to say something, but I knew better. Talking back would only make things worse. So, I followed, biting down on my tongue.

We were barely outside when she slapped me. Hard.

The sting of her palm against my cheek brought tears to my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of her. Never in front of her.

"You've been here two minutes, and already you think you're somebody, huh? You think you're better than the rest of us?" she spat, her face twisted with anger.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I whispered, my voice barely coming out. "I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time?" She gave a bitter laugh. "You think that excuse is enough? This isn't your home, you little brat. You live here to work, not to waltz around like you belong here. This house belongs to Mr. Mbatha. Not you."

Her words cut deep, but I couldn't show her that. I just nodded, feeling the burning in my cheeks.

"Yes, ma'am," I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady. "It won't happen again."

"It better not!" she snapped, leaning in so close I could feel her breath on my face. "And from now on, you're forbidden from talking to anyone unless it's for work. You hear me? I don't care if you're in the kitchen, the yard, wherever. Don't even look at them unless you're spoken to. And if you think I'm joking, go ahead, test me."

She didn't need to tell me twice. I knew the rules, had known them from the moment I started working here.

"Now, get out of my sight before I do something I regret," she hissed, turning her back to me.

I stood there for a second, too stunned to move. My face was still stinging from the slap, but I didn't dare touch it. Not in front of her. With shaky hands, I smoothed out my apron and walked quickly to my room. Once inside, I locked the door behind me and let out a shaky breath.

My heart was pounding. My hands were trembling. How much longer could I keep this up? How much longer could I pretend everything was fine when it wasn't? I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But there was no time for that. I had to serve dinner soon.

I splashed some cold water on my face, trying to erase the evidence of my tears. I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back at me. The once bright, hopeful girl was gone, replaced by someone who lived in constant fear.

Dinner service came quickly. I stood in the corner, trying to make myself as invisible as possible while the Mbathas ate. Mrs. Madlalose was keeping a close eye on me, her arms crossed, her eyes watching my every move. I didn't dare look up. I didn't dare speak unless spoken to.

As they ate, Mrs. Mbatha suddenly dropped her spoon. It hit the floor with a loud clang, making me jump. My heart skipped a beat.

Mrs. Madlalose shot me a look. "Pick it up," she said, her voice low but firm.