Chapter 15: Fifteen

• Lexus

The sound of things shattering could be heard everywhere in the house.

10 year old me stood outside the drawing-room as my parents fought inside. It wasn't really a fight since it was always one sided.

I could see my father abusing my mother from the crack between the slightly open doors.

He lashes out on her when things don't go his way.

I stand in my place and keep staring, the light from the room shines on my eyes.

"You disloyal bitch!!" He hits her.

I stand there staring for a while. Am I supposed to do something? What can I do?

Nothing really works, ever.

"Dad" I whisper.

He pauses, then they both shoot their heads in my direction.

I wake up with a gasp.

A dream...

I sit up and realize I was sleeping on the sofa, lazily I slump against the back and glanced at the wall clock.

I straighten up and look at the clock wide eyes.

It's already 10 am?

Did I actually sleep that long? How? I recall what had happened the previous night.

Right. But, where is she?

I had just started to wonder when a sizzling sound caught my attention. I look back and found her in the kitchen. I stare at her in confusion.

"Oh!" She noticed me, "You're up? It's a good thing you had a good rest."

A good rest?

Come to think of it, I feel lighter.

"You're fever's gone too." She placed a plate on the counter, "Breakfast?"

I just look at her. Why is she doing this?

"Please eat." She begged, "You'll get sick again if you don't eat properly."

"I told you not to concern yourself over me. Didn't I?" I stand up from the sofa and walk towards the kitchen counter.

"Yes." She looked down as she saw me approach, "B-but a good slave should look after her master right?" She looked up, "You're health should be my priority right?"

The look in her eyes had changed. At first, there was only fear but now that emotion had calmed down a bit.

"Is that so?"

She nodded as she held a knife and fork tight in her hands against her chest which she presented to me moments later, "Would you like to try?"

I took the utensils and sat down to look at the plate with pancakes and honey. I stare at it for a while.

"You don't like pancakes?"

It's not that I don't like them, just that it's been ages since I ate one. It's more like a kids meal.

I took a bite from it. I didn't really have the intention of eating more than one-two bites.

"Not bad." I say. It did taste good. Like a home meal... What am I even saying? It is a home meal. The word sounds so foreign.

"Really?"

I didn't even give her a compliment yet she was oddly too happy at my remark. A silly smile appeared on her face.

I wonder why I ate all of it?