Grandmama's Mansion

Once Perfect, Now Painful

A tall butler walked in and I instantly recognized him. It was Mr. Oaksworth. He was glaring at me on the floor as if I were filthy, when he was the one covered in dirt. What's his problem? I really wanted to tell him to go away, but before I could, he spoke.

"I knew you would cause problems. You are going to ruin everything. I hope she disciplines you soon. Now get up! Madam Amelia told me to take away the towels and her dresses," he said, his voice as bitter as vanilla extract.

I began to open my mouth, wanting to tell him off, but Lance quickly put his hand on my knee, telling me not to speak, and I didn't. Lance knew much more about Grandmama and her servants, so I trusted his judgment. With Lance's help, we got up and I could see the disgust in Mr. Oakworth's face as Lance helped me. It was like he only approved of spite and cruelty. Lance did seem to show me more care than others, and I think Mr. Oaksworth could sense it. To him, all romance was probably offensive. Especially considering his mental stability.

Mr. Oaksworth and Lance began to pick up towels and I just stood on the ground where there wasn't a towel. Mr. Oaksworth never stopped glaring at me as if I should be helping them, but considering my toe, I was not going to help him. Once all the towels were picked up, Mr. Oaksworth put them on the clothing rack that had a shelf on the bottom and slowly rolled the rack out. Out of the room, I tried to follow him out, but he noticed me.

"What are you doing!?" he shouted at me.

Slowly backing up into the room I replied, "Uh, nothing-"

He cut off my response when he slammed the door in my face and locked it.

"So much for the towels," he said. There was silence for a moment as I quickly thought of something to say. I decided to ask him a question about him so I could get to know him more.

"Lance, how long have you lived here?" I asked.

"My parents moved here when I was five, I think. I don't remember how old I was in memories, mostly because I never had any big birthday parties to serve as landmarks of my age," he said softly. I could tell he was shielding his memories from me slightly, which only made me want to know more. It made me wonder why anyone would move to the mansion. I personally found it stupid, but I guess I never knew why, so I asked.

"Why did your parents move here?"

"Well, Madam Amelia had an ad in the newspaper saying anyone who moved in as a servant would receive free food, shelter, and care. My parents were getting kicked out of their small apartment and were desperate. They ran a restaurant that had almost no service. It was a week after the restaurant closed and they had no income. My dad became a chef and my mom's a maid as you know. We were one of the first servant families, and at first Madam Amelia just seemed persnickety, but then she became so much worse. She never seems to stop becoming extremer in her treatment of the servants. My parents tried to leave after a year of working here, but then-" he stopped abruptly, leaving me with so many questions. What happened when they tried to leave? I wanted to know so, so bad.

"Then what?" I asked, but then I said a shimmer of light sliding down his face. It was a tear reflecting the moon light. I couldn't believe Lance, who was usually so happy, could cry. I felt terrible seeing his so sad.

I walked closer to him and patted his back. He looked up at me with a fake smile, as if he was thanking me for the comfort, but he wasn't actually happy. My heart was pouring in sorrow for him, and I couldn't even imagine how sad he was as more and more tears fell. He wasn't crying loudly, actually he wasn't making any sound, but the tears just kept sliding down his face.

I let him cry, my hand on his back, for a short while until he stopped, whipping them off of his face.

He looked up at me, his eyes red from crying, and smiled at me. This smile seemed a lot less fake, and it cheered me up too.