Persephone's Angel

Learn To Be A Servant

Chapter Two: Learn To Be A Servant

"It's not that bad, being a servant here, you know. The pay is good and the people are usually nice to us...and now I've got a friend" Abelia spoke, I paused sweeping and looked up to her, she smiled to me and I returned the favor; I accidentally grasped the broom with my right hand and cried out, dropping the broom and grasping my wrist. I had forgotten about the gauze!

"What's wrong..uh.." Abelia said quickly, dropping her rag that she was cleaning the floor with and rushing to my side.

"Persephone...my name is Persephone" I said through gritted teeth.

"My god! Your hand!" Abelia cried, stabilizing me.

"The gauze, it's in my room" I said, walking towards the third cellar.

"Why are you going that way?" Abelia said, pulling me away "the rooms are up here" she added, I paused.

"Not mine" I whispered, pausing for only a moment to turn and look at her before hurriedly walking to the stairs.

"Persephone, wait!" Abelia called, running after me and helping me down the stairs. 

--* "I can't see anything" Abelia whispered, I smiled.

"Me either" I said, my voice echoed off of the stone walls and Abelia clutched my arm tightly, I guessed she didn't like darkness. I felt the doors until I made out the numbers 666. As I pushed open the door a flood of light attacked Abelia and I, we winced as our eyes attempted to dilate to take in the sudden change of light. Someone had lit all of the candles in my rooms! I took a step forwards but Abelia stopped me, the gauze sat on the floor before me.

A small smile developed on my face and I picked up the roll of gauze, wrapping my hand and ripping the gauze free of the roll. The room was still dusty, but light and more comforting. A few fake paintings and props laid lazily around the rooms, I walked into my bedroom to find that my little leather bag was unpacked and my clothes sat in a neat stack upon a desk on the other end of the bedroom, along with a cracked picture of my mother and I.

It ached to see her face again.

She had only been dead a week, and I had not been granted any time to grieve for her.

And the time to grieve was not now.

I turned from the picture and walked to Abelia who was looking through a few pictures next to a small, red, Victorian couch. I was worried, I didn't light the candles, I didn't move the gauze, and I sure as hell didn't unpack my clothes yet; and if I didn't do it...who did? "Why is your room all the way down here?" Abelia asked, rescuing me from my thoughts, I shrugged, her eyes narrowed, she knew something was wrong. She walked into my bedroom and saw the picture "aw, who is this you're with?

Your mum?" She asked, I followed her into the room and cautiously sat on the uncertain cot. It screamed and moaned under my meager weight.

"Yes, we went to the park that day, it was my birthday, last year." I explained, she nodded.

"What's her name?"

"Her name was Claire and she was wonderful, she did all she could for me" I said, attempting to keep myself composed, Abelia paused and uncertainly asked.

"Was?"

I nodded and sniffled "she uh...she was killed a week ago...she was murdered a block from our home" I choked out, playing with the sides of the gauze and blinking back tears. Abelia gasped and rushed to me, holding me close to her, so close I heard her heart beating. I closed my eyes for a moment and smiled "Abelia, it's fine, I'm okay" I whispered, wiping my eyes and sniffling "I'm here now, I'm better" I added, patting her shoulder and standing, I wasn't very good with physical contact, unless it was by someone I was very, very close to.