Waiting For Daddy

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As night settled in, things got much worse for Claire. The temperature was freezing, and she had absolutely no blankets. All she was wearing was a now dirty short-sleeved blouse, good Converse, and ripped skinny jeans. Her duffel bag was still in the car. To make matters worse, the small, rolled up position on the bookshelf made her back ache, and muscles strain. 

Claire fiercely hoped that her god-awful guardian would soon get her out of this dreaded place. He probably didn't know that Claire had a serious phobia of insects, and had a very strong allergic reaction to pollen.

Claire shivered as she tried to imagine what would happen to her if a bee wandered its way inside. Her throat would probably clog up, and she would fall off the bookcase, twisting and turning while making gurgling sounds. Meanwhile, Mr. Smith would probably be reading or relaxing. Claire would die.

Then, somehow, some way, Claire's eyelids managed to droop down, and she spiraled into a deep sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Claire woke with a start as the door suddenly slammed open, causing momentarily blindness for her poor eyes, who had finally adjusted to the darkness.

"Rise n' shine, Cathy!" shouted a drunk Mr. Smith, who came wobbling in.

Claire groaned inwardly, while rubbing her eyes groggily. Could this man ever get her name right?

"Up, up, up," he yelled once more, throwing his beer bottle on the floor, causing a black spot on the floor to quickly move. Then, for good measure, Mr. Smith added,"Girl, you better get off that shelf and onto this floor or another slap is coming your way."

Groaning aloud this time, Claire carefully climbed off the bookshelf, gently massaging her cramped muscles in the process. "What do you want?" she asked, just wanting for him to leave.

"I'm just reminding you girl, that your job starts in five minutes. Don't forget to wear this," he said, tossing a slutty looking maid outfit. It was very low cut, and it looked like the dress would barely cover her butt.

Job? What job? thought Claire.

But instead of asking, she just laughed humorlessly. "And what makes you think I'll be wearing that?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. She was not going to loose any more of her dignity as a woman.

" 'Cause if you don't, some tragic accident might happen. Maybe you might just get the teensy bit hurt," he replied, taking a metal baseball bat and slapping it down on his palm.

Claire gulped. Maybe she could afford loosing a little more of her pride.

"Be ready in five," he called over his shoulder, as if he hadn't just threatened her.

Sighing, Claire quickly took off her clothes and lay them atop the bookshelf. She then put on the trashy outfit. Looking down at her attire, she sighed once more, as she had been right; the dress stopped right after her rear, and Claire started pulling at it, wishing it'd go lower.

No more than three seconds later, Mr. Smith's head popped back into sight. "Let's go, sweetheart," he said, seeming to be talking at Claire's chest.

Claire complied. She knew that if she disobeyed him, things could get worse than this. Maybe she could just find a phone and...

"Girl! Get moving! We don't have any time to waste!"

Tugging at her dress hem one last time, she trailed a few feet after Mr. Smith. Claire was then taken inside his house.

"Some pals of mine are coming over. You'll be cleaning the floor for now," Mr. Smith said nonchalantly.

"And don't try anything, I'll be watching!" he called over his shoulder as he headed down the hallway to do god knows what.