The Tale of Mysterious and Simple Color of Fortune.

Huxley-Darkness

          I watch my mother cradle her child with a lovingly gaze set on the beautiful six-months baby girl. From the corner of my perspective, a key turns and the doors open.  The lovely sunset that gives the mother a peek is beautiful, until it is swallowed into darkness and the doors close. But she was not watching the sunset. She was watching a man.

The man puts the keys on a vintage table and hangs his coat, slowly and carefully. He makes his way toward his wife and kisses her on the lips and forehead. He then proceeds and gives the baby a kiss too, also on the forehead. 

For a still moment, the woman puts her hand on her husband's chest, rocking the baby slowly. For a still moment, all is peaceful and quiet.

      "Beautiful day, isn't it?" the father says while picking up the baby and lifting her up and down. He cooed the baby while giving him the elevator. The elevator was a movement of lifting the baby in the air and catching it.

The baby giggled while the wife and husband smiled. Everyone was happy as they could ever be...

The perspective changed. Behind them, a ghostly white girl dressed in a white faded dress stood watching. I was her.

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          "Wake up!"

Huxley woke up in a jolt. She was sweating; beads coming down her forehead. She felt her face, wet with tears. She was crying. Of course. Even though it was a happy dream, she had cried. Always. Whenever a dream was about her parents, she cried. No matter how happy the dream was. She always cried.

          "Are you done?" a gruff voice sounded before the doorway. 

Realizing it was her cruel leader Thorm, she scrambled up. As she sat in her bed, waiting for reality to slowly dawn her, Thorm was waiting. She quickly changed into her dress..but not fast enough.

          "How long do you take?!" the impatient man said, poison dripping from his words.

Before she could answer, Thorm had entered her room.

          "Look at that! Our maid is not changed yet!" he looked up and down while Huxley bent her head, blood rushing to her face. She tried to cover as much nakedness as she could even though her hands were trembling.

          "Is there any privacy here?" She was ashamed at how squeaky her voice sounded. 

         "No, you change here." 

His fiery gaze bore into her eyes; her hands were trembling but she managed to put on her dress. She then put her hair into a messy ponytail. When she turned around, Thorm nodded approvingly.  

The maid scurried out and tended her chores. She cleaned the floor by scrubbing with the dirty small brush. She tended their leader's laundry, she dusted the dust of books and then put them back neatly on the shelf, she served breakfast and many other dutiful things.

When she would run out of supplies, she would do errands and buy her tools as well as anything her leader wanted. She was very quiet, barely speaking a word, only when she was commanded by her leader. She did not pry information she was not supposed to be hearing, she just kept to herself. It was enough that she eaves dropped.  At nights, she would lie in bed thinking about her memories she had about her family. It wasn't a lot, only a few here and there, but it was the only thing she had managed to savage from her childhood..

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It had been a week since Thorm had gone into her room without permission. During those days, she had an ominous foreboding. She felt like she was being watched; but when she looked around, she did not see anyone. No matter how many times she looked right and left, and up and down, and forward and behind, she simply saw no one.

Only maids scurried around those days. Once, she met Noire, the evil mother of Thorm. She didn't know which was worse: that Noire was the head maid and Thorm's mother, or that Thorm treated Noire like a maid. But still, Noire had chores to do and she lived in the basement, unlike other maids. Just like Thorm, she was cruel, impatient, arrogant, and narrow-minded. Instead of a deep voice, she spoke in a high-pitched voice, enough to sing in a hideous opera and wake up birds about a mile away.

          "What are you staring at?" Noire screamed, "GET BACK TO WORK."

Noire took steady steps towards Huxley with her broom high in the air and slapped her.

Noticing, Huxley did not move, she smiled, satisfied. She cackled the rest of the way; Huxley could smell the waft of lavender when she walked away, but the scent was associated with a funky smell. The evil maid readied her mop and then paused, savoring the moment. 

She then hesitated and decided better when she slapped her face. Huxley still hadn't moved. Using this as momentum, she slapped the maid's entire body up and down until Huxley's legs buckled and she fell the ground. From there, she dumped the remains of the dirty water from the bucket. Huxley knew her face was red from the marks, her clothes soaked, and she felt immense pain before meeting her only friend, the darkness.