Chapter Four: The Servants are Miscreants
"Delora." A husky voice
Spoke from behind her.
Her body,
Shook,
Before turning around
To see the Head Butler,
Seoirse.
He was an older gentleman,
Who wasn’t much taller than she was
But his presence,
Spoke for itself.
Filled with clucking hens
Just by stepping a foot inside.
His brows furrowed
And his lips curled,
"What do you think you are doing?"
"I...Uh..." She stuttered,
Her eyes
Flickered around the small hallway,
Attempting to find an excuse
For her actions.
"Spying on the Missus were you?" He queried.
"No!" She gulped.
"Do I hear a lie?" He straightened his back.
"No, you do not! I was not watching the Missus, honest! I was watching her child." She explained, "She had received a black eye earlier and now the Missus is-"
"How long have you been working here Delora?" He interjected.
"Two months." She answered.
"Two months are more than enough to know that that child is none of our concern! I had assumed Maggie explained in great depth that The Master ordered us to ignore her at all times unless The Missus brings our attention to her child. Then, we are to listen, are we to not?"
"Yes, we are." Her head bobbed.
"Do you know of the reason?" He quizzed.
"No, I do not." She responded.
"It is because the Missus has attacked several of our staff because of our negligence towards the child! If we do not listen to her, who knows what she'll do next. Has she instructed you to watch over her child?"
"No, but-"
"But what!?" He raised his voice.
"She's just a child!" She yelled, "She's just a child..."
She repeated, "I’m tired of fighting my morals just to work here." She gripped onto her dress.
"Then leave." His suggested
Her head
Fell.
There’s nothing worse
Than being jobless
In a world
Dedicated to money.
"I thought so. Maggie has informed me that we were the only household to take you in after what happened."
She snatched her head back up.
What was once,
The face of a kind woman
Turned to one
Of spite
And anger.
Her crimson eyes glossed,
And her mouth
Wanted to speak out.
Her hands,
Craved to lash out
But she couldn’t.
She wouldn’t dare allow
To lose herself
Within wraths grasp.
"Delora, do you know why we choose you out of all the other candidates?" Seoirse asked, clearing his voice.
"No, I don’t." She replied.
"It is because this household staff is made up of Miscreants who can withstand the violence that occurs within this broken family without batting an eye." He answered with a smile on his face.
"So that’s it!" Delora sneered, "How sickening. And you think I'll just sit back and do the same?"
"Naturally!" He retorted. "That is why we hired you in the first place."
"Well, I won’t. Despite what I have done in the past, I still know what is right and what is wrong and what’s wrong is not stepping in to say something. If you all won't do it then I'll take care of her to the best of my abilities."
"So be it. But if The Master finds out, you're going to wish that you were dead."
He blinked,
Turning around
And walking down the hall.
Delora exhaled,
Leaning up against the wall,
"What have I gotten myself into? Miscreants...ha! You mean a bunch of psychopaths playing butlers and maids!"
She let out a soft laugh,
"But who am I to judge? God knows I’m just as bad as them."
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