Chapter Nineteen: Fragile

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Chapter Nineteen:

I woke with a start, bolting straight up in bed. It must've been three in the morning, the celebration still booming outside the window. I had dreamt I was getting punished by Percyus's men for something I had done. Whipped, and beaten, and scorched by a flame.

I put my head in my hands and wracked my brain to try to figure out what I had forgotten to do. I felt sweat along my hairline and on the base of my neck, making my hair slightly damp. My fingers gripped my hair and pulled, think, think think.

Suddenly it came to me. I was supposed to clean the porch and the medical wing, yet I was so selfish I just went to bed. I pushed aside my exhaustion, the days work and the nightmare taking my body through the wringer.

I slid the covers aside, swinging my legs to the edge of the bed. Standing up, I smoothed down the crew neck sweatshirt I was wearing, hoping I didn't look like total garbage. Percyus would probably think I was the ugliest bitch to ever walk the planet, but right now my main focus was completing my chores.

I ran out of the room, down the hall and to the left, reaching the stairs. I stumbled down the four flights of steps to where the porch was dimly lit by the lights attached to the side of the mansion. My nimble fingers opened the sliding glass door and pulled my body through.

I glanced at the mess of tables and chairs, luckily only the one table truly broken, the rest just tossed around. I dragged the broken one out of the way, knowing a large garbage bin was out back, not too far from here. Once I had disposed of the broken table, with much effort, I started tipping the knocked over ones back upright.

I set them around how I vaguely remembered them being and set the chairs around neatly. By the time I had finished I could hardly tell anything had changed. I had moved the tables to fill the empty spot, but for the most part, I thought I did alright.

I went back inside, closing the door as quietly as I could. My body moved slowly and carefully as possible, trying not to alert anyone of my presence, just in case someone had come in early. I closed the door in the medical room I had been in and turned on the lights, blinking rapidly at how bright it was in contrast to the darkness of the house.

I flew around the room, putting things back where I remembered and working to push everything back into place. I was in the middle of washing all of the tools I'd been using when a voice spoke up, "What do you think you're doing?"

My heart leapt to my throat and I fumbled with a scapula, slicing my hand open from my thumb all the way to my wrist. I immediately dropped the tool, my hand gushing blood. I grasped it tightly with my other hand, gasping in pain. "Nothing! Just cleaning the tools I used, sir."

I didn't know who it was yet, as I couldn't see them. They didn't seem happy. "Are you trying to steal drugs? Tools? Supplies?" He demanded.

"No, sir! I was cleaning up after I helped someone earlier!" I cried, my blood splashed all over the white sink, an even bigger mess to clean up now.

"That's bullshit, you don't work here." He strided forward and grasped my arm.

"I'm telling the truth!" I pleaded, my eyes briefly meeting his before I looked down.

"I don't care." He seethed, throwing a roll of gauze at me. "Now get out!"

"I can clean up the mess! I'm so sorry for leaving it like this, I fell asleep-" He cut me off by shoving me out of the door and slamming the door.

I fell to the floor, my hands bracing my fall. I cried out when my bleeding hand smacked the floor. Blood started running down onto the floor, and my eyes widened at the mess it was making. I used the rolled up gauze to start wiping at the floor, frantically cleaning to avoid getting in trouble.

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