§LÄVÈ

S L A V E ~ 5

Catalina

Taking a deep breath, I stood staring at the bedroom door of the eldest son, Justin.

I had previously cleaned Justin's siblings rooms, and It was the most beautiful rooms I have ever been in. I was relieved that they were not present as I cleaned, because for some reason I am still very ashamed that I had evidently messed up on my first day — that was just an utmost embarrassment. I was contemplating whether or not I should knock, I was so nervous that my hands were shaking. I did not know whether or not Mr. Bieber's son was beyond this door — I was just hoping that he was not in his room.

     As soon as I raised my hand, about to put it against the door and knock, I felt a presence beside me, "I presume you think by staring at this door, the room will magically clean itself?" A thick, husky English accent was heard. I was startled, to say the least, even more so that when I had realized that it was Justin, who stood there looking down at me. I gulped, "I-uh, I- I was not sure if you were present in the room — I was afraid you would be upset if I had bothered you, if you were in the — room I mean, if you were in a slumber..." I bit down on my the bottom of my lip as I trailed off, staring at the floor beneath me.

I was very certain that I was making a fool out of myself from my excessive talking, especially when I was not asked a question of any sort. I merely glanced up to see him looking at me, just before he opened the door and entered his room. I continued to stand in my position, waiting for permission to enter, when he gave me his permission, that was when I entered — closing the door behind me for he had told me so.

     As I started to clean, I got a little chance to examine the room. The chance that my eyes got, it roamed to see the dark beige looking walls that only had three frames hung up; one, was a picture of - I am assuming - when he was a toddler, the other of course, was a family picture...and the other, was just a painting. A painting that looked very beautiful, it had to be professionally done. That painting, had so much meaning to it but yet, I found it so hard to comprehend.

"Catalina, was it?" I heard Prince Justin ask, I turned and looked at him, to see that he was looking at me, "yes, master" I said. "where did you come from?" He questioned, I slightly frowned, "what do you mean, master?" I glanced at him.

     "Where did my parents buy you from?" He rephrased his question.

I gulped, slightly clenching my jaw — it made me sad just to think of actually being bought, it makes me sad to think that I — and every other person of my complexion will never be more than those 'above' us seek us out to be. It is as if whatever they say we are, we are it. Shouldn't we be able to develop as ourselves and say what we are as human beings? and not let others dictate us? dictate our future? or more so...define us and mold us into what they want? aren't we suppose to be free?

     "Catalina" I heard the voice of my master once more, which made me snap out of my little world of thinking of what should have been and not, what is now. "I-I am sorry, master" I cleared my throat, "I was acquired from an organization that is led by Ms. Rebecca Delatore" I replied to his question from before, as I continued to dust the dresser. Prince Justin merely nodded his head before opening his mouth to speak again, but closed his mouth again —not bothering. Without another word, he got up from his bed and entered his Loo. As I continued to clean, I made sure to make the room spotless, slightly hurrying so that I would not be here when he returns to his room.

With that in mind, I was finished with what I was doing in the space of ten minutes. Then, I exited Prince Justin's bedroom — heading towards the long spiral staircase to head down to the lower floor, but I stopped in my tracks when I saw the two girls who had tricked me.