The Maid For Styles

Chapter 10

Chloe's POV

I woke up in the morning, bright and early, due to the sound of my 'strum' alarm. I groaned and picked up my phone, unlocking it, making the annoyingly familiar noise stop. I flopped back down onto my pillow and closed my eyes, running my hands over my face. It was finally my birthday and the day I turned eighteen. It was a moment I'd been waiting for for quite some time, and for the date to finally arrive, well, it was a relief. I smiled slightly and sat up, pulling the covers off me. I swung my feet from my bed and placed them on the ground. I sat up and stretched, my bones cracking in all the right places. I padded softly over to the bathroom, opening the door and closing it behind me.

My birthday wasn't a big deal when I lived in Australia. Once my mum passed away, my dad didn't give it much attention. I remembered on my seventeenth birthday, my dad had given me an envelope with money in it and a card saying 'Happy Birthday. Love Dad.' No, I love you, or a sweet birthday message to go with it. My dad had to work the day of my birthday, so when he left, he kissed my cheek 'goodbye' and wished me a 'Happy Birthday' before leaving. It was as if once mum was gone, he didn't really care about his own daughter. I didn't think that was the case, though. I was so sure that he drowned himself in work, attempting to get away from his horrible, new wife, Karen. I didn't blame him, but I thought he would give his own daughter the time of day. Apparently not.

Karen didn't acknowledge it at all. She was worse than my dad, but, I mean, I wasn't expecting her to. She was sicky sweet all the time, but when it was my birthday, it didn't seem to cross her mind, and I think it was because my dad didn't seem to care about it either, so she didn't see the need to pay attention to my birthday, either.

With my mum, though, my birthday was different. It was always a big deal, from what I could remember. My sixth and seventh birthdays were the ones I could remember most of. I could remember my mum and dad waking me up by tickling me and wishing me 'Happy Birthday', whilst showering me in kisses and hugs. It was the best way to wake up as a young kid. I got special gifts and at the time, they were important, but as I got older, I realised that having my parents together, celebrating my birthday and making a huge deal out of it, was the thing I loved more than anything else, even more than special presents.

My dad passed away a couple of months after I turned seventeen, and it wasn't until then that Karen started treating me like her personal slave. I didn't have to spend a birthday with her, which I was extremely grateful for, but I did have to spend Jessica's and Jazmyn's birthday with them, and that was hell. I catered alone for at least two hundred people, and according to them I ruined the night. Karen was very bossy and moving to London was an opportunity I'm so relieved I took.

Being eighteen gave me a sense of freedom. It made feel as though I was my own person and an adult. I felt like no one could boss me around and tell me what to do. I could make my own decisions and there would be no one there to stop me. I was excited to finally be eighteen, and I knew spenind my birthday with the boys was going to be a blast.

I turned on the shower, the hot tap turned on nearly all the way. I stripped down as I waited for the water to get warm, and put my hair up on top of my head, not wanting to wash it. I could tell the water was hot, seeing as the steam from the water was fogging up the shower windows and the bathroom mirror. I turned on the cold water and waited for it to kick in, making the water a warm comforting temperature.

I stepped in, goosebumps rising on my body as the water hit my skin. I smiled as the water fell down my body, the warm water waking me up slowly. I squirted my strawberry and vanilla scented body wash in my hand, before rubbing it all over my body, cleaning my skin. I soon finished in the shower and I stepped out wrapping my body in a towel. I dried off and let my hair down from its bun on top of my head, my hair cascading down my shoulders. I ran the brush through it and left it as it was, deciding I would fix it up later.