I bounce up the stairs to my room. Going in, I run to my closet. I push my few clothes and only pair of shoes out of the way, to get to my mother's chest. Pulling it out, I wipe off the dust.
It's a dark leather chest with old metal buckles. My mother's family crest is on the side. It's been in my mother's family for generations.
I pull at the buckles and look inside. My mother's champagne coloured wedding dress is the first thing I see. The whole thing is made of lace. It has sleeves and a sash around the waist. It's gorgeous. I remember seeing pictures of my mother in her wedding dress around the house, but when my father remarried, he threw out all her things. I only just managed to save her favourite things. My mother meant and still does mean everything to me.
I gently take the dress out. Beneath it is a suit. It was my father's. It's an old black suit with a few holes.
Grabbing my sewing kit, I take a needle and some black thread and patch the holes. In and out. By the time I'm done, my fingers have blood on them from getting pricked. But that doesn't ruin my mood because the suit looks wonderful.
I set it on my bed before running down stairs to the kitchen. I start cooking, humming as I do so. Broccoli and carrots are boiled. Then I sprinkle herbs on the butter chicken. When I'm done with that, I put it in the oven and start on the dessert, chocolate cake with chocolate icing.
Mixing the necessary ingredients together, I put it in a pan and then in the other oven. As the cake bakes, I start to clean up. Hearing laughter I go to the dinning room. My smile still on my face, I set the table. Putting the plates, bowls, and silverware in the right places.
I smile before skipping back to the kitchen. I take the food out of the oven and turn off the stove. The broccoli and carrots are arranged nicely in a bowl, because presentation counts too. I leave the chicken in the pan and take the food to the table to dish out the shares. I set it in front of everyone.
As I turn to the kitchen, my stepmother calls out to me. "Raphael!"
I stop and turn around, a fake smile on my face.
"Your father and I have talked. When you clean the whole house, you can go to the ball."
I stutter, but no words comes out. I glare at her. Hoping she can read the hate in my eyes.
An angry scowl crosses her face. "You will do as told, boy!" She stands up, banging her fists on the table. It scares me, making me to jerk back. I grit my teeth, lower my head and nod. It's not like I have a choice.
I want to go so bad. I have to go. Therefore, I must clean. Running to the cleaning closet, I grab all the things I need and get to cleaning. I scrub the floors, polish the staircase, get all the cobwebs out of the corners, clean the lights, sweep and mop all the rooms and even clear the fireplaces.
By the time the whole house is cleaned, I'm exhausted as I walk up to my room. I put my suit on my chest when I get there and fall into bed.
It takes not time at all for me to fall asleep, peaceful dreams of finding my mate fill my mind. I can't wait till tomorrow.
***
