Attraction

The rain slowly caressed the cold floor of the outside world, Sitting by the crooked window seat, I got my own type of first-row tickets to its beauty. The drops came sprinting down the window as the new ones joined in on the race.

Rain,

At this point, the single natural phenomenon was the only constant in my life. I realized very early in my life that it always rains after a tragedy.

Was it some sort of messed- up symbolism?

Hell if I know.

All I knew was that when my mother died, it rained.

When my sister suddenly ran away with some unknown homeless idiot, it rained once again.

Even when my father inevitably left, it had rained.

I guess that's what brings me here today.

Sarah's funeral.

I signed as I looked around the funeral reception. The thrilled guests filled the relatively adequate room. There was a rectangular wooden table filled with all kinds of little decorations of origami animals I created while eating the remains of the uneaten food that we called lunch. I was lucky to even get a scrap of paper but thankfully my saddened look and sob story had done the trick.

There was loud party song blasting through our ears as if we were in a club rather than a funeral. Me being practically a slave to the manor, i never had time to listen to any form if music but from the way this one was blasting through my eardrums, I was almost thankful.

The other maids were dancing around and laughing together as if they completely forgot they were here to mourn their daed friend.

I guess I couldn't blame them. If I were in their situation, I too would have used every ounce of the one night of freedom I was presented with.

When I found Sarah dead, it was nothing like I had expected it to be . I didn't make some ridiculous obscene gesture as I imagined I would have.

Instead, I just stared at her. Her lifeless body was scattered against the cold floor of the living quarters and more and more shocked faces were starting to circle around her.

long awaited tear slipped down my chest. I couldn't cry for days, it got to the point where I began to question if she even meant something to me. But then I would remember.

You'd think as someone who grew up hand in hand with death it wouldn't affect me as much anymore. That it would get better and this time you would escape unscathed . But it didn't, it didn't get better.

The ceremony was quick and simple. The lords didn't care enough to let us bury her so they just simply burned her body and gathered us all on one of the halls that they didn't use. They would let 20 girls attend to make sure there were still enough maids to work for their bidding. The 20 girls would usually be her door mates. Hence why all these girls who never even cared enough to look at Sarah came just to experience a tiny pause from their distressing reality that this funeral offered.

Sarah's family was not even invited to attend. Not that they would have come anyway. In our world, we don't have families. The lords don't let us see or even contact them . In their eyes, we are machinery, animals, anything to dehumanize us.

The funeral was very quick. Madam Chevrolet wouldn't allow it another way. The ceremony lasted for a few minutes where we would take turns saying goodbye to the dirty glass coffin that held Sarah's body. Then they would turn on the music, give us some leftover and call it a day.

.............

I stepped inside the maid quarters. After 10 years of serving in the manor, this place seemed like the only home that I ever had. However, the place was far from pleasant.

Cracked windows, dirty sheets and ruinous walls were a common sight. Aside from the old beds, the rooms consisted of a small wardrobe where all 20 of us kept our clean and polished uniforms tucked away. There was a small hanging clock above the drawers, used only to know when out shift was about to start.

Glancing at it, there were about 15 minutes before I had to get ready to help out in the kitchen.

I always worked as a kitchen maid but with Sarah's untimely death the roles..... Switched. Sarah worked as a housemaid, meaning she was assigned to random Lord and had to clean their part of the estate while they would be out. Seeing as there were a lot more kitchen maids than housemaids, they chose me to take over her tasks. Unfortunately, they didn't remove the chores I had already so now I was stuck doing both out jobs.

Assholes. All of them.

This also meant I would have about 5 minutes to run up the forty or so floors by stairs from the kitchen to the designated room since the elevator was off limits to maids.

Then I would have about 30 minutes to make their gigantic Billion-dollar worthy room spotless just so I didn't get to "disturb "the Lord or Lady when they come back.

If I was still there after they came back, I may just as well jump out of the nearest window because the outcome would be same

I stopped by the common maid's lounge area to see who I'd be assisting tonight. The room in itself wasn't too unfortunate. Two broom armchairs laid diagonally across from the two seat sofa. It was the biggest amount of luxury the manor had to offer maids and yet, the room was up to this point, unused. Ignoring the fact that the seats can only hold about ten maids out of the hundreds that works here, the room is not exactly eligible at times.

Morning was the only times anyone even had time to spare a look inside before they had to run to attend their next long list duties. Therefore the seats always remained empty. The room had always consisted of a large list of names for the maids that was made by none other than madam Chevrolet herself.

There were about fifty maids circling the paper, each more and more anxious as they went in front of it.

Some were smiling from ear to ear from their good results but most had the more expected reactions. With a glum look on their faces, they were on the verge of tears. I couldn't blame them. Some lords were infamous for killing maids on the spot if one tiny detail was misplaced.

Lord cullen was the perfect example. The maid who would be chosen would inevitably get at least 20 whips with a belt. And that was merciful. Cullen made sure to search the room from each corner, knowing he was bound to find at least a couple of mistakes. From what Sarah told me, he would purposely hide hidden objects just to deliver the whips himself. I had never met the guy, but it was one rare moment that I was almost grateful to be a kitchen maid just so I would never have to experience the likes of him.

I signed as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, preparing myself to look at the list was harder than I had initially imagined. This could end really badly.

I solely opened my eyes and approached the list.

My fingers traced down the names and it stopped at Lord Cullen's name.

I furrowed my eyebrows and slowly looked to the right side of the list, it was the moment of truth.

Aubrey Jennings

Thank god.

I didn't know Aubrey, but my thoughts and prayers were with her.

This time I scanned the list Surprisingly, my name was at the top. Now even more nervous, i set my eyes on my name that seemed almost unrecognizable now.

Kamala Anderson

I traced my finger to the left of the paper

Don Alister Mancini

No. Please no.

I could feel my heartbeat gaining pace with the panic already at the back of the throat. I'd rather be assigned to Lord cullen, but not the Don.

Please not the Don.

A monster. That's what he was.

As a maid, I never got to see the owner of the estate. Even though we lived under the same roof, he seemed more of a myth than an actual person.

I could feel the panic attack slowly creeping up to my throat.

I quickly raised a finger towards my neck to try and feel my pulse and took quick breadths

Not here. I thought to myself.

Never here.

The other maids would pass by me, giving me cold smirks and glare at me with their judging eye that already casted me aside as the outsider. I never had the natural urge to talk to them either but after Sarah, I longed to have someone view me as normal.

But even being labeled as unorthodox was better than them actually paying interest in me. I already knew how that would go and I couldn't have another panic attack in public. Not again. The last one I had.

Lets just say, it didn't end well. My swollen and bruised arms served as a reminder and kept me in check so I would get to stop the attack once it arises with the promise if torture. I was more than aware that, that was the least healthy way to cope with it but it was the only thing I was able to do.

When my breathing calmed down, my eyes automatically fixed themselves around the list. I stared at it over and over again as if hoping something on it would magically change.

The Don was no one to be messed with.

Ever since the mafia took over the government, the whole world lived in fear of the young vicious mafia boss. I was no exception.

He was considered the most dangerous and respected man in the world. Or at least, what was left if it.

Around twenty years ago, when I was barely one year old, Germany was overtaken by the Darvishi Mafia. The whole country's government was overrun and the country was never the same again.

Upon seeing the power of the Darvishi, more and more powerful mafia started to invade.

After a year, Russia was gone. Another year, Italy. Ten years later, the whole world was at the mafia's mercy.

My eyes scanned the paper again. It was almost laughable. First, Sarah dies and now I was to clean the room of the most unforgiving man on the planet who would not hesitate to kill me if I do much as breathed wrong.

The worst part was, I was incompletely inexperienced. I was the kitchen maid my entire life! I know how to clean, of course everyone here does.

However, cleaning up a room and cleaning up mafia boss's room were two completely different things.

One small mistake and I would be killed without a second thought.

In that moment, all I wanted to do was run upstairs and soak up my pillow, but I knew I didn't have that option. Absence was not tolerated in any shape or form at the estate. You would get severely punished.

In my world, being punished was worse than dying. The Lord's did not have time for an insignificant maid. So they would hand us over to the hands of some bored guard.

And being bored was dangerous. Especially here

The human brain has no ideas what type of torture these men come up with.

I stared at the list again and again, hoping my eyes were playing some sort of tricks on me.

But they were not. This was real.

I was going to die tonight.

...............

I rushed to the kitchen while quickly trying an apron behind my back.

If I was late, I will would suffer 50 hits with a whip of the guard's choosing and I promised myself I would never go through that torture again.

I open the door abruptly to see that I have made it just on time.

Kitchen maids were already running around like crazy searching for the appropriate dishes.

The chefs were yelling their throat out and downright slapping the maids if they didn't oblige right away.

The chefs were not good people. Especially in the kitchen. It was the one place they held any power in.

I ran up to madam Cortez to await further instructions.

" You ! " The woman screamed at me.

"Get me the onions before I get bored and use this knife on you instead! "

I gulped and ran as if it were for my life. Because it was.

................

It was the end of my half shift meaning I had around 30 minutes to run and make the Don's room spotless.

While sprinting up the stairs I was silently praying in my head. Tears were forming themselves in my eyes and I quietly let them out.

I could feel a familiar bruising in my pain in my heart. I knew what was coming.

No. Not yet.

My head ached and I felt my legs begging to give out but I didn't let them . I couldn't. I just had to be okay for a few more minutes.

I took out my brush and started sweeping.

My mind was slowly to relax after a while. I took a deep few breaths and tried hard not to have a panic attack.

I placed two fingers on my neck to feel my pulse and my heart visibly relaxed. I took deep inhales and exhales to try and slow down the rapid beating of my heart. I knew I was wasting time but from living with severe anxiety my whole life, i knew my panic attack could get so bad I might die.

But I couldn't today.

In and out. In and out.

I kept reciting those words in my mind until my head began to feel clearer.

With one last deep exhale, I gripped the brush with my first.

My eyes studied the room to find the the spot where I could start. They stopped once they landed on a big gothic clock in the corner of the dark room.

5 minutes.

I HAD FIVE MINUTES!

I could feel my heart explode out of my chest and my tears of panic rushed back as if they had never left.

My mind quickly snapped back to semi - control and I grabbed the moon.

I felt my world slowly shutting down before me but I knew I couldn't let it. The rogue tears kept running out of my eyes and I was in no state to stop them as I tried my best to focus on the mop and cleaning the gigantic room.

I threw the brush away and took the sponge while splashing it into the water. I could hear my soft cries that hovered under my breath.

3 minutes

My legs started shaking as I desperately tried to pick up pace. From what I could tell my pulse was getting out of control. I had to calm. No I had to finish. I had to.

I couldn't even feel my heart anymore and I was on the verge of passing out. I started sweeping like crazy.

I swept and swept because my mind didn't know what else to do. It was as if I wasn't even there anymore. My hands were shaking and my entire body was trembling with more desire to stop.

I was loosing control. I knew that. The feeling of worthlessness swept through me in a hurry but I knew it was too late to stop.

Why do I have to be like this why couldn't I just be normal?

Tears were rolling down my eyes and my throat chocked back the noises.

I dusted and dusted while my brain was gradually loosing consciousness.

I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

1 minutes

And then it stopped. My breathing, my heartbeat, my morbid thought...... They had all just stopped.

And as if for the grand finale,

I gave into the darkness

................