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A Servant's Smile (view source)

Revision as of 10:54, 17 June 2021

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"What's wrong, madam?" the man said speaking in loyalty, "No words to speak out? Is it a paralysis?" Before he would resume, I finally spoke. Hoping that he won't give me any long dialogue questions acting like he's Shakespeare, considering he has a british accent, "Have we…. met before? How do you know my name?"
 
"‘Have'Have we met?'" the man responded to my question, "Of course not!" The man turns around. This is where I should have been very very shocked, however I was still a bit nauseous from last night, as if I woke up from having like a dozen of boozes, despite the fact that I'm sober. His eyes were so red, I thought it was blood while his pupils were yellow as the sun. His skin was like a river blue. A dark river blue, in fact, I never thought it was his real skin. Either it's halloween and he has good makeup equipment or something else. Because no one normal would look like that. But maybe I'm dreaming. He bows down with his left hand in his chest and his right arm extending to the right direction and answers his name, "Staniel Ainsworth, at your service!"
 
I tilted my head thinking to myself, What the hell kind of a name is Staniel? As for the surname Ainsworth. I guess you can say it's an English name.
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Stan walks to my direction calling for me and asked, "Madam, what's wrong!? You have shown negative energetic emotions all day. Is there something you would like to talk abou-" As he reaches to my shoulder and touches it, I brushed it away abruptly, turned around and smacked him right across his face. He fell almost twelve steps back from the stairs. The sound of the smack and banging sounding like somebody tripped caught the attention of Sheryl who rushed to his aid. Stan still smiled however. But his eyes was widened in shock. He looked up at me, not realizing that was coming wondering what he did wrong. I didn't care if he was shocked at all. My heart raced to saying something vulgar and cruel.
 
"Damn idiot! ‘What'What's Wrong!?" I shouted out, "Did you NOT hear the loud crash that went up in my room last night!? Was it my mom's order not to protect me from a scary figure or a thief that would have just came and take me away!? Or were you just playing it off as if nothing would happen to me!? You're supposed to protect me! I had glass nearly cutting my face and it's still in my bed AND in the floor of my room! It's a damn mess and you're just sitting there and telling me what's wrong!?"
 
"Oh dear…." Both of them whispers, they looked worried and felt responsible.
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"We call this the Brittleback Dish!" Stan chuckled a bit. Not only was that name stupid, but his smiled told me it was a joke or something. I started getting a bit irritated.
 
"Really?" I said, "Of all the names, you call it ‘Brittleback'Brittleback'? How ridiculous! Such as how the loud noise was erupting in my room. Like a child screaming! Are you going to tell me you didn't inspect the noise from there either?"
 
Stan, still with the smile again, had his eyes widened and his hand placed in his chest, "Oh dear. Another threat while we were finishing our errands again?"
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