Servant's Story - 02

27 March
Good Evening, Diary,

Forgive me, but I'm not used to confessing myself to a journal. As you may have noticed, I've only just started writing in you six days ago. You happen to be the first diary I've ever claimed, so I'm a bit uncomfortable. Perhaps if I gave you a name we'd come to know each other better. What do you think of Peter? Yes, from now on I'll address you as Peter.

Well, Peter, that irritating maid seems to have taken a liking to me. I believe her name is Celeste (perhaps she is gypsy-born?). She's been trailing me, and I find myself making mistakes wherever she goes. Something about her personality grates on my nerves so intensely that I become clumsy and destructive. I've taken to avoiding her, but it doesn't seem to do me much good.

Yesterday, when I was asked to help carry a young man's things in, she didn't hesitate to volunteer herself to go along. You might be thinking I'd be glad for more help, but you are sorely mistaken, Peter. The only thing she moves is her mouth and I was made to do all the work.

Sadly, the one time I would have been glad to have her along, she was nowhere to be seen. I was told to move yet more baggage, this time for a family. The father seemed nice enough, and while I moved their things the wife chattered on at him. I was in my best serving form. That is, until the daughter showed herself.

My God, Peter! You'll never in all your life see something half so horrifying! I'll see that you never have to, for I fear you'd simply rot in her presence. She rolled into the room, and after one glance at her I nearly dropped my burden. Her hideously fat face seemed to jiggle with excitement at the sight of me. My stomach squirmed likewise at her sweaty gown and face. Her oily cheeks seemed to contort into some kind of smile in my direction, and I made any excuse to leave.

I'm still afraid, Peter. Afraid I might be called back there. I've no authority to decline, but I break into a cold sweat at merely the thought of it. Peter, please lend me your strength in this desperate time. I'm not sure I could do it without you.

Faithfully yours,
Charles


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

30 March
Dear Philip,

The ball will begin in two days. The amount of work they put to us is staggering and I fall asleep much too quickly to express myself to you. Tonight I'm pushing myself, however. It wouldn't be good to neglect you for too long, as we might begin to grow apart. I've been working my best through the assignments, but I can only hope that our responsibilities will ease after the ball is ended. I'm not sure how long I can hold up in this way.

You'll be glad to hear it, Philip. I've been lucky enough not to run into that daughter of the devil again. I've been called to deliver their meals once or twice, but since it's acceptable, I leave it outside their door. I knock once then run down the hall as fast as my legs will allow. The fear that possesses me is no joke. It's easy to run, despite my fatigue, if I only think of her protruding eyes bugging out at me, turned on me as if I were a meal.

Also, I'm happy to announce that I've met a fellow servant boy who seems nice enough. His name is Philippe and he shares my disdain for Celeste, if only partially. He even shared some of his bread with me the other night. Perhaps before long I'll tell him about you, Philip. I'm sure we'll all be good friends.

I'm much too tired tonight, so I'll have to talk to you more next time.
I'll be thinking of you,
Charles