Francesca's Dream

A New Role

Aira awoke to the sound of shuffling feet. Helena sat stretching on her bed; Vincent with his beaten, bruised face; hobbled around the room still sore from Aira's beating. Skott sat up, his jet black hair sticking up to and fro. Turning his head he gave Aira a sad look, his eyes shown true pain for him. Aira knew what this meant, Francesca was gone. Under the cover of night she had left with nothing but their few words from yesterday morning. She had cried in his arms yesterday, she had been traded for the cause, an unfair, unjust cause. How would she survive in this prison of a world not knowing anyone. It hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks, she was gone. How would she be able to cope in this new world. 

Inside the back of a worn out Mercedes cargo truck. Francesca sat;  seated on a worn out wooden bench. A olive green canvas tarp covered the roof of the truck. An armed guard hopped in the back of the truck, machine gun strapped across his chest. Two other guards hopped in the cab of the truck, firing up the engine. The mechanical beast lurching forward in the gravel.

The mechanical beast of a vehicle pulled up in the gravel drive way of a large stone house. The truck stopped, the engine switched off. The guard accompanying her in the back, stood up escorting her out. Her pulled back the olive green canvas, the bright morning sun momentarily blinding Francesca's eyes. She jumped out of the truck her white soled sneakers hitting the gravel with a crunch. Her pale eyes adjusting to the light. Looking up at a large three story home; she let her eyes soak in and wander about it. Her eyes stopped, meeting at a small man with dark features. The guard she had been traveling in the back of the truck pushed her forward using the side of his Machine gun. 

She walked forward stopping only about three feet from the man. Upon closer inspection he was short no more then five foot six, he had brown Bettie eyes, a hooked nose, dark hair on his head and face, his skin the color of cream. Those eyes now looking staring coldly into Francesca's green ones. "You shall call me Mr.Ellis, or Sir. You well be spoken to but are never allowed to speak back. You may only be allowed to speak if the said person is addressing a question to you directly; is that understood." Francesca nodded her head slowly. "What shall we call you cur?' Mr.Ellis said; his mustache twitching. "My name is Francesca, Francesca Evenson Sir." She said no emotion behind her words. "Well Miss Evenson, follow me and welcome to the Raswood home." 

Walking up the cold stone steps Francesca could see the tiniest details of the house now. The stone on the house was green, a deep deep forest green. At the top of the stairs Mr. Ellis stopped at the top of the steps, in front of a huge oak door. Pulling out old looking black iron keys, he inserted them into the equally old lock. As he turn the keys ever so briskly, a loud "CLICK" sound was heard.

The small menacing man pushed the door open, walking into the room Francesca was amazed. The entrance of the house was mesmerizing; White mar bell floors with beautiful streaks of green, deep emerald walls; each covered in beautiful portraits of Oz. A grand White mar bell staircase wrapped around the room. A grand crystal chandelier delicately  hung from the ceiling. "When your done gawking at the entry way Miss. Evenson I will proceed to show you your quarters." Mr. Ellis said coldly; his eyes digging into her sole. 

Looking away at the shear beauty of the room, Francesca turned back to him. Mr. Ellis quickly darted down the hallway, up a narrow stairway and into a small lit room. Three girls about Francesca's age are sitting on three of four beds on the opposing wall." Ladies, this is Miss. Evenson, I expect you all to get along and show her the ropes. She will be assigned for Megan's old position for the time being." He said crisply. Turning around he leaves Francesca with the girls; each is dresses in a mint green uniform. "Your bed, and uniform is on the end." The smallest of the girls say. She is just barely four and a half feet tall, with dark hair and dark blue eyes like the ocean.

"Thank you." Francesca says quietly. "My name is Heather, this is Sarah, and Morrghan." She says pointing to the girls next to her. Sarah has dirty blond hair, to match her filthy ash streaked skin. Morrghan had pale creamy skin, with flaming red hair cascading down her back, the top was braided intricately around her head. 

"Hi, I'm Francesca." She said quietly. She walked down the row of beds; a dark green mid length dress, and crisp white blouse lay on the bed. White flats lay on the floor by the metal bed post. Francesca changed into the uniform, slipping on the perfectly sized white flats. Francesca stood gazing at her reflection in the cracked full length mirror, hanging on the wall. "Here brush your hair out, and style it. Master doesn't want us to look like slobs." Turing away from her broken reflection Francesca met Morrghan, she was holding out a brush and hair pins. 

Francesca brushed her long fare hair. She started to pull back her hair with a disdained face, she was not in the mode to make herself look pretty after all she was now a maid. What did it matter if she looked nice, she would just be covered in dust and ash like Sarah. "Here let me help you." Morrghan said taking Francesca's hair in her hands. She started pulling and pinning her hair back. By the time she was done, Francesca's fair hair was pinned back in a high braided bun. "What do you think?" Morrghan said sweetly. "Its so pretty, thank you." Francesca replied. "Okay, your going to shadow me today; we are chamber maids, Sarah is a scullery maid, and Heather is a cook, Mr. Oliver Ellis is the butler. He is in charge of the house when Mr.Raswood is away." Morrghan said walking away from the mirror towards the door. The rest of the girls followed hotly at her heels to work.

Morrghan had given Francesca a tour of the estate; now having left her to clean one of the parlors on the first floor. Dusting a vase on the black marble fireplace, she hear the door crack open. The sound of feet were coming towards her; thinking it was Sarah coming to start the dead fire in the fire place she didn't think anything of it. A gentleman cleared his throat "Well Hello Miss. Evenson." It was  Eric.

Francesca felt as if her heart had jumped into her throat, they hadn't spoken since her left her in the camps hospital. "Meet me in my room at midnight, third floor on the right, end of the hall. Make sure your not followed." With those words spoken in the cold air of the room he left her dusting.