I sat on the floor finishing my scraps. Watching them eat the 3 coarse meal i had cooked for them was unbearable. I could almost taste the chicken from its strong smell, warm and rich. Every now and again Trisha would throw me a half eaten wing or the scraps of a corn cob. I felt like a dog. Eating the scraps from your master. But you get what you get. The floor was cold and dry. It stung my bare legs, as my dress was quite short, sized for a 13 year old. I bet i looked pitiful, sitting on the ground next to a grand table filled with the most delicious food. When i usually cook, i manage to take a small part of the meal for myself before serving it, but tonight Trisha watched me. She sat on the chair nearby reading, and every now and again she would look up and inspect me. So tonight i was especially hungry.
Another bone was thrown at me, interrupting my daydream.
"Here dog," Trisha laughed as she threw another. "I am in a generous mood tonight." She smiled at me, But not to give me any nice feeling. More like to mock me and make fun of my classing.
"Trisha darling, don't tease." Miss Montine said slyly, chucking yet another bone at me. "We don't want our servant to starve to death do we?" I looked down at the ground, sweeping up the dirt with my bare hands. I was wishing this moment would end. Dinner is the time i get mocked most and i hated it. I felt trapped, all of them staring at me from the table, stuffing their faces and wasting precious food.
"May i leave now?" I asked. Miss montine looked up at me.
"Excuse me?" She said.
"c-can i go now?" I repeated clearer. Miss montine's eyes narrowed.
"Come here." She said loudly. I stood up immediately and walked towards her. I looked at the floor, trying to think of something else, imagining that everything was going to be okay.
"You stupid ungrateful girl," She said scolded. I felt a hard pain on my face. Then again, but harder.
"Look at me!" She yelled, slapping me again. I fell to the floor trying not to cry or yelp in pain. My face was burning, and my eyes flooding from my tears. I held my face trying to stop it from aching. It was sure to bruise. "Get up!" She screamed angrily
"Yes miss," I whimpered. I stood and wiped my face clean with my dress. I deserved what i had gotten. I was rude to her. And she hated rude. It was my fault, and i get what i get.
