Just a Maid

Chapter 13

     I quickly walked down the hallway leading to the washroom. Tears were threatening to spill out of my eyes, even though I tried to fight them back. By crying I knew I would be letting Brianna win, but I couldn't stop my tears from filling my eyes. I'd never felt more humiliated in my life.

     I couldn't believe she did that. All I did was dance with Alexander - which was totally a waste of time - and she slapped me. She was the real bitch. Who does that?

     Finally, I reached the washroom. Luckily no one was using it, so I quickly went in and locked the door behind me. The first thing I did was look at myself in the clear mirror.

     The slap had left a a red mark against my pale cheek. I could tell it was fading, but that only increased the amount of water in my eyes. To put the way I looked in one word would be a wreck. All because of her - my boss, the snobby, bratty, bitch.

     Closing my eyes, I sat on the toilet seat and put my head in my hands. I allowed tears to fall, too tired to care. Brianna was the worst. I didn't know how I would survive ten and a half more months with her. After the ball, I didn't even want to face her. I didn't want to face my job either. It seemed like a maid was a job that meant no one cared about my feelings. I was just a slave, someone you could apparently physically and verbally abuse. I hated that so much.

     Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes tiredly. I needed to stop thinking for a second and relax. Being upset about this wasn't helping me.

     In about twenty minutes, I heard a knock on the door. Frowning, I sat up straighter and waited. There was no way I'd open the door for anyone. I didn't care who it was - no one would move me from my spot.

     Once again there was a knock on the door, this time more loudly. I huffed in annoyance. This person needed to take a hint.

     "This washroom is preoccupied," I said flatly.

     "... Alanna, it's me, Donovan. Let me in."

     My eyes widened from the quiet voice. What in the world was he doing here?

     I stared at the door blankly, unsure of what to do. Donovan was good company - comforting, too. However, I didn't want him seeing my like this, so pathetic and weak. It would turn him off.

     "Alanna, please," I heard him say quietly, almost pleadingly.

     Sighing tiredly, I gave in. I got up and walked up to the door. Opening it up slowly, Donovan quickly slid in. I shut the door behind him.

     The first thing he did was stare at me. As his eyes looked at my left cheek, he placed his cold hand on it. The feeling was welcoming.

     "I'm so sorry, Brianna is heartless," he said, rubbing his thumb against my cheek. "I should have came here sooner."

     I looked away as tears began to well up in my eyes again. "It's not your fault."

     "No, I should of said something," he said. "I should have stopped her from yelling at you in the first place."

     I didn't say anything to that. What he said was true. If he had stopped her from yelling at me, none of this would have happened. Instead he chose to be the bystander, and here I was taking the consequences of his action.

     "Your cheek is swelling up a little," he commented, seeing I wouldn't reply.

     I glanced at the mirror and saw that my left cheek looked a bit puffy. My cheeks heated up as I realized Donovan was seeing me at my ugliest. Dammit.