Pauper Syndrome

6

All I feel is heat. Scorching the back of my head. A white, burning heat.

"Argh!' I shout. My eyes flutter open. A sharp, spiky pain rushes down my back. Gently, I raise my arms up and take a stretch. A few cracks escape as my muscles relax and my lungs fill with rich, morning air.

I slowly sit up from my bed and step into my slippers. Liam is at work today trying to find the missing Princess he keeps in his home. Yesterday ended up being much longer than expected. We shopped far longer than anticipated, and for things that weren't just groceries. We ate a variety of foods. Well, foods we didn't throw in each other's faces. Needless to say, Louisa didn't get the groceries until the evening.

"Good morning Louisa," I say with a smile that is accidnetally accompanied by a yawn which escaped from my mouth. "How are you doing today?"

Louisa smiles sweetly. "I'm doing terrific, sweetheart. What about you?"

I nod, messy bed hair coming in and out of my vision. "Me too."

"That's wonderful then. Would you like to help me with some tasks around the house?"

My eyes immediately light up. I had always been curious about what people meant by the word chores, and how they hated them so much. For as long as I can remember, I had always asked the maids in the palace if I could try washing the dishes, but each time they'd always tell me to bug off. This response went similarly for laundry, cooking, or mopping the floors. "This is not the job for a princess," they would say, "you should use your time studying instead."

Looking at Louisa, I nod my head furiously. "Of course I would!"

The sheer amount of excitement seems to startle Louisa a little.

"I am very surprised to hear that," she replies sweetly. She points a delicate finger towards a hanger near the window. "Why don't you go get ready and grab the apron? You can help me cook."

The sounds of rushed footsteps fill the room as my feet scatter across the floor. I happily rush back into my room, or more specifically, Liam's. Without a moment's break I swing open the closet. Immediately, the scent of sandalwood rushes over me as I see stacks of neatly folded uniform piled ontop of one another.

Opps. Wrong closet.

I quickly walk over to the bathroom and open one of the cream coloured cupboards. This has become the new home for my clothes which aren't really mine. I grab a ribbon from the basket and tie my hair up in the mirror. I almost startle myself when I meet my eyes. My face has stayed the same, my hair has stayed the same, but something is different. Missing almost. Not having the energy to think, I tie my hair up in a ponytail which I eventually fixed into a bun. After trying to perfect the look for minutes, I had decided to give up. With my hair sticking out in all various shapes and flocks, I look like a fluffed up bird. I haven't ever done my hair before, and there is nothing that can wipe my smirk which reflects off the mirror.

Skidding towards the end of the staircase, I march my clumsy feet towards the hanger Louisa mentioned. I grab the apron as fast as my hands would allow and promptly tie it into a bow around my waist. Frankly, I'm loving the look – this forbidden outfit I was never allowed to wear.

"Hi Louisa!" I say happily as I hop into the kitchen.

Louisa doesn't turn to look at me but keeps her attention on peeling the carrots and potatoes in the basket. I tip-toe over as if making a sound would distract her from her perfected skills in the kitchen. I quickly run over to the sink and turn on the water. I rinse my hands with cold water, freezing in fact. There's no hot water tab here unless you heat it up first. After a few seconds, I immediately pull my hands out, they look red but shockingly full of life. I guess one has to be in these situations.