In Victorian England slums, the oldest and quietest girl of four trying to keep a roof over her family's head accepts a job with an odd staff and mysterious employer. Until she finds out all the maids before her are dead and she must face a mystifyi...
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Closing the door behind once more to try to close my eyes, to inhale a minute if I could some sort of peace but the fear had grown too big, it suffocated the peace out of me with every moment that mother's hysteria sprang up to wake the household to its feet.
"Milady?" Mrs. Trudor walked in.
"Yes Mrs. Trudor."
"I just wanted to let you know that two of the maids have asked for a letter of recommendation."
"Oh why?"
"Because they will be seeking work elsewhere."
"Oh... Hmmm."
"Shall I write them one or not?"
"Yes of course write them the letters."
"As you wish, good night Lady Alice."
"Goodnight to you too Mrs. Trudor." She closed the door behind her and I thought how long until all of them deserted this household, for who would want to work in this house of insanity?
"Milady?" Edna asked outside my door as I got ready to sit on my bed.
"Yes come in."
"Milady your mother is sleeping."
"Good."
"Here I brought an extra candle milady."
"Thank you Edna, did you check the post today."
"Yes I did.''
"Any word from Mr. Henry?"
"Not yet."
"Then please send him this tomorrow," I gave Edna a letter to post directed at Henry and the current gravity of my living situation.
"Yes miss," she exited out with the letter and I locked the door to retreat into my personal exile when a revelation swirled in mind.
The bechamber that belonged to me was a messy much like the memory I had of when I first entered Mr. Howard's room, books on the floor, furniture oddly placed and I wore a sleeping robe more often than not. How ironic it was to take on a role I never thought fit for any lady or gentleman but this time I saw beyond the mess, or rather I saw it as a mere external product produced deep within my restless heart. In my lack of experience I had judged Mr. Howard's chaotic way of life as a purposeful decision but it might not have been so for what had my life turned into? How things had changed and they happened over time day by day without anyone ever asking if I wanted this. Could it be my misery was teaching me to be forgiving of Mr. Howard's odd manners?
"Joan! Oh Joan!" My mother wailed through shouts in her room taking my mind off track once more, "come back to your mama!"
"Mama?" I walked in her room.
"No Joan, no!" She smacked a drawing of my sister holding Joan's doll with her hand. "She won't stay Alice!" My mother's hair was spread on the rug she had cut it off and the scissors were hidden.
