Chapter 3

I woke up to a knock on my door. It wasn't a furious "Get-up-now!" knock, but more of a gentle "It's- time-to-get-up," knock. I really didn't want to get up. My pillow was so soft and my blanket was so comforting, I was good right where I was. I considered yelling back, "Not interested. I'll stay here," but decided not to. It took a second for me to realize I wasn't in my own bed, at my own house, but my pillow being black reminded me. I wished it had all been a dream, but sadly, it was cruel, twisted reality.

The door slid open and Lance walked in. The open door shot brightness, however little, into my room and I proceeded to hide my head under my pillow. I was starting to like the black pillow; it made everything dark underneath it. I liked the non-blinding darkness. Realizing Lance had to be at my door and I probably looked really stupid, I looked towards the door, peering through one squinting eye.

He looked the same, but I couldn't help but smell an astoundingly strong smell of strawberries, but it was not like he just ate them. The smell seemed to fill the room, slowly embracing my nose, and then flooding it. It was more like he had strawberry body wash and shampoo. But I couldn't believe how strong the smell was, my god. I hoped my body wash or shampoo never smelled like that, although I liked the smell. I just didn't like how strong it was. It did fit him though.

He was carrying a pile of clothes that gave me a saddening hunch knowing they were for me. He looked super excited for the day and he was obviously a morning person. I never understood morning people.

The morning is made for sleeping. Not enthusiastically jumping around and just being a morning person. That was what the night was for.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. He had a huge, adorable smile on his face, with dimples in the center of his rosy cheeks. It was adorable how enthusiastic he was, although I still though he should save it for the night. The night just always fit energy better for me.

"Good morning. Is that for me?" I asked yawning while rubbing my eyes. Typically when I wake up, I look like crap, and that day just happened to be a typical morning. Here I was being woken up by this beautiful boy and I looked like an ogre getting out of bed. I was kind of embarrassed to say the least. My eyes always had sand in the corners and my hair was always a mess. I usually felt really greasy and I felt like I needed a shower. Waking up just felt gross to me.

His black hair was reflecting the candle light, and his narrow face was basking in its own beauty as he smiled. He wasn't that tall, maybe five foot seven, but he had such a presence; he might as well have been seven foot. He had an aura of happiness that spread to everything and everyone, or at least me, when he was near. Every time I had been near him, I had a fuzzy feeling in my stomach. I liked being around him. I sat up in bed, still in just boxers and an undershirt, but I carefully held the blanket over myself. I was always sort of self-conscious.

"Yes, Madam Amelia told me to give you these," he said as he handed me the clothes, which was a butler suit identical to his. Closing the door behind him, he sat on my bed next to me. He of course sat on the side of me that allowed him to slightly see beneath the blanket. However, I made sure to pull more of the blanket over me, fixing the problem.

"I'll wait here while you go get dressed. Then I'll show you our chores. Madam Amelia has assigned me to you. If you need anything, let me know." Oh great, I had to get up and he had the perfect view to watch and see all of my imperfections. I knew he wouldn't leave even if I asked, considering Grandmama wouldn't let him, so I just counted to three and stood up. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I walked towards the bathroom.

"Okay," I said, closing the bathroom door. I stretched my arms above my head sense I was out of sight. Seeing as he was perfect in every way I wasn't, I felt even more self-conscious in front of him.

I changed into the butler suit and brushed my hair. It definitely wasn't fancy like Lance's. My hair was short except for my bangs. It was like Lance's, in that it was short except for my bangs, but with a little more of an extreme, modern day looks to it, especially considering the faded away red streak in my bangs.

I couldn't help all the black head's on my face, particularly around my nose. They weren't visible from a distance, but to me, I could spot them in a mirror faster than you can say "black head." Ever since my parents died, I stopped caring about how I looked, although with Lance, I started to care again.

Walking out, I slipped on my shoes, tucking the locket from around my neck under my shirt. Lance was patiently waiting, watching me walk around and getting ready. I, in a way, liked how he watched me, because it led me to think I wasn't crushing on someone who didn't even consider thinking about me romantically as usual. That's how my life was before I met Lance.

After I brushed my teeth, I walked to him and said, "I'm ready." I actually had woken up and was ready for my first day, which surprised me. I would rather have taken a bath, but oh well. It was almost like my first day at a new job. It was hard not shutting down and grieving over my parents, but I was trying to move on simply by ignoring it, or at least not focusing on it. I have to admit Lance served as a good distraction, although to me he quickly became more than just a "distraction".

He stood up and happily said, "This way," while opening the door for me. I walked past him, my stomach fluttering at his chivalry, and he walked past me to take the lead. My mind was racing trying to figure out whether he liked me or whether he was just really nice. Nobody I knew ever treated me that nice, but then again he seemed like the kind of person who was that nice to everyone. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Following him, I walked down the candle lit hallways and stairs. It was very dark anywhere there wasn't a window, and I could barely see Lance. I couldn't figure out how he knew where he was going, considering the maze like structure of the hallways. The darkness didn't help the unsettling feeling the mansion gave me, although thanks to the close proximity to Lance, the unsettled feeling was alongside happiness. Eventually, we got into an old, abandoned-looking, and might I add huge, room. It had various pieces of furniture, paintings, and other things, like a storage attic; except it wasn't an attic. The room was only lit by the sun light seeping through the black curtained window across the room. It was mostly covered in shadows, but it was better than nothing. The room was cold and smelled stale, not to mention how awfully difficult it was to breath with all the dust and cobwebs.

"What is this room?" I asked curiously.

"Welcome to the storage room where all the furniture and various things Madam Amelia doesn't like but refuses to let someone drive out to a dump. She continues to load up this room as new furniture is shipped in from who-knows-where." Oh, that's nice. I wondered if she let anyone leave the mansion, aside my from parents possible assassin, that is. And without a computer or a phone, how did she get things shipped in?

"Oh, what do we have to do here?" I asked after a brief coughing fit from inhaling the smoke.

He looked at me sympathetically as he replied, "Cleaning. Stay near me and you won't get lost. Oh! And watch out for spiders. This room is infested towards the back."

Great! I was an extreme arachnophobe and I would basically scream and run as far away as I could when I saw a spider. I squeamishly looked around, but I couldn't see any spiders from where I was at, and you could get lost! That's crazy. How could one room be so horrendous? I hated Grandmama even more at that moment. Lance handed me a feather duster he grabbed off the floor. There were two, but he kept one. At that moment I thought that room would be the death of me.

He started dusting off things and I followed him. I stayed glued to his side but I was ready to run in case of a spider. Although, I have to admit that wasn't the only reason I stayed close to Lance. We started by dusting off a large couch and moved on to a large table. We went around the room but didn't really get deep into it. I was shocked at how dirty the room was. I knew Grandmama had like a billion servants, so why was this room ignored?

So, I asked, "Considering all the servants Grandmama has, why is this room so nasty?" Lance looked at me and chuckled.

"This room had been off limits until today, but only we are to be allowed in here. I think she was saving this room for us, or just forgot about it until you were here. If I were you, I wouldn't try to understand Madam Amelia. Trust me, it's very difficult," he said laughing, but I could tell the laugh was just to cover up the seriousness of what he said. Lance left me with so many questions. I hated it. And to think Grandmama was "saving this room for us" angered me. It made me wonder, how could she not have killed my parents? But I still wasn't sure.