The realm of reflection- writing & art

Instructions

—click and zoom by colorsnatch— —music is drifting— ooo Lia woke up five minutes before the 6:00 AM bell. If she didn't, Monsieur Jacques would be at her door with his silver key, whether she was dressed or not. Five minutes before 6:00, the cooks in the basement would be awoken, and if you slept lightly, you could hear the faint ringing of a bell in the distance. Lia hurried over to the wooden dresser in the corner of the room and ran a small comb through her hair before tying it up with a pale white ribbon. She dabbed her face with the required pale pink blush and slipped into her uniform. It was tattered, but at least she got to wash it once a week. She glanced at the amber clock on the wall. 5:57. Lia held in a gentle breath and pulled out the thick bible from underneath her bed. She slid it next to her nightstand and used it to climb onto the rough wood. It creaked underneath her silver flats, and Lia froze. When no footsteps came, she stood on the edges of her toes to reach the pale windowsill tucked underneath the ceiling. She propped up her chin and stared out of the narrow slit of glass, where past the rolling hills, she could see the sun blooming in the distance. A family of bluebirds soared past the window, singing as they flew for the trees. A deer and her fawn peeked out behind a scattered bunch of bushes and flattened their ears when they heard the calls of the morning. DONG. DONG. Lia yelped. She had forgotten how long she had been staring. Frightened, she stepped backward and fell off her nightstand. THUMP. The floor creaked beneath her as she landed, her palms splintering from the rough wood. She froze, her heart beating against her chest. Click… Clack… Click… Clack… Footsteps. Lia gathered the things that had fallen off the nightstand. The door next to her unlocked. She kicked the bible under the bed. Click… Clack… Click… Clack… She fumbled to her feet and raced towards the dresser. Click. Her door swung open. Monsieur Jacques gave a brief ritual scan, then moved onto the next door. Only once he had moved five doors down, Lia finally let out a breath. She shakily opened the drawer and slowly pulled out her satchel. She scraped the bottom of the wood for any spare change and found only three pennies and a nickel. She had spent all of her money the day before on a cup of milk. “PLEASE GET TO YOUR STATIONS IMMEDIATELY,” Monsieur Jacques shouted from the hall. Lia spooned everything in the drawer into her satchel and slung it over her shoulder. Servants scurried out of their rooms, keeping their heads down as they passed others. She maneuvered between them, breathing as quietly as she could with her chin at her chest. She hurried up the staircase, followed by five other servants heading to the fifth floor with her. Lia knew them all very well, but she never talked to them or made eye contact with them. Ever. Soon there came a fork in the road and Lia turned right along with two other girls. She didn’t acknowledge them, and they didn’t acknowledge her, but they both knew of each others’ presence. They didn’t, though, know where Lia went every day. And Lia hoped they never would. Finally Lia reached the end of the hallway, where a large brass door stood looming over her, contrasted against the luxurious red carpets and white-washed walls. She pressed on it with her shoulder and it opened with a disturbing creeaaaak, revealing a dim lit stone spiral staircase leading up into the darkness. Lia let out a breath. You do this every day, she told herself. Go. Pushing aside her fear of the clenching darkness, Lia gripped the banister and began to climb. 54 steps, she had counted, until light began to appear. Soon thereafter you would walk straight into the office of Del Manacotta. Dim smoke rose from a small fire in the corner of the room, adjacent to a long birch desk holding up a bundle of drawers. Besides that, the office was a bleak concrete room, with no windows and no doors. In the corner was a small golden desk framing a chair embedded with diamond, where Del was sitting with his arms crossed. Del was tall and pale, with thin dark hair lining his large face. He normally wore a long black cloak, but today it was silver. His narrow eyes stared through Lia. “Sit,” he said. Lia kneeled down on the floor. Del nodded, satisfied. “Today is the day, Serv.” (+) Go to notes and credits