MerAdd Oneshots

The Maid 4

Please excuse my lack of updating...I have moments where I write a ton all at once and then I have stretches where I don't write for months. It's been 8 months, but I finally had a moment of inspiration and figured I'd get this out as soon as I was able :)
~Daisy

I didn't see her for a while after that.

Everyday, I watched and waited for her car. Every single day, I hoped she'd come back, even for just a day. Just so I could see she was okay.

The worry that plagued me made me frustrated; why was I so worried about where she was or what she was doing anyway? She had her own life, as an adult she should be more than equipped to be okay. I knew her well enough to know she would be fine without me, or rather, I hoped my reading of her was correct. I hoped she would be fine without me.

But in the back of my mind I still worried, I thought of her often, but always, but never, but only when I was sad, but then when I was happy I wanted to see her too; all these feelings all at once and it was confusing. All these excuses for why I wasn't thinking about her, yet I forgot to remember that the excuses were me actively thinking about her, because I'd never stopped.

Even acknowledging that I was going insane wasn't enough; I still looked for her car without thinking, still searched for her head of fiery curls in the halls, still crossed my fingers I'd pass her by, and still missed her.

Still, I didn't see her.

After a week, the longest she'd ever been gone without even a single appearance, I began to think I'd be better off with a different job. One where I wasn't constantly looking for someone who could never be found.

I had to accept that maybe she just didn't want to be found.

With all these thoughts troubling me, with all these emotions wreaking havoc on my mental state and emotional being, I continued on about my work day, completely unaware of my surroundings as I went through the necessary motions to get through it all, despite the troubling thoughts that muddled my brain.

Instructions to polish the wooden furniture in the larger dining room (yes, the larger of two dining rooms, not even counting the kitchenette for staff) had been left on my list for the day, which I had left for last because it took the longest and bored me the most.

Rich people were, in my opinion, quite odd. My Mother had been a doctor and worked hard for her money, but we didn't bother polishing our furniture. It was a pain in the ass.

The wood polish smelled horribly, which meant I wore ugly yellow dish gloves that went up to my elbows as I held my breath and sprayed the polish onto the furniture. The bottle reminded me of an aresol can that made a loud hissing noise every time I put even the slightest pressure on the top button. Each spray sounded like the air being rapidly let out of a balloon.

My own thoughts plagued me, to the point where I didn't notice when the door opened and shut behind me. I didn't notice when she walked in. I didn't notice I wasn't alone until she spoke. Trapped in my own mind, the only thing I'd noticed was that I didn't notice a lot.

That realization, of course, did me no good.

"You've been polishing that same spot for fifteen minutes now"

Her voice rung out through the air like a bell; crisp, clear, and present. As if she were a ghost, I spun on my heels to look behind me, where sure enough she herself stood.

At first I was relieved; I'd been expecting her for a while and the anxiety that came along with expecting someone who'd never arrived was somewhat debilitating; on the other hand, I was scared and nervous as to what she was going to say. I completely shut down, and with that, I completely forgot how to react.