Chapter 2 Michael Andrew Mullane

I walked along the dust path, holding a bucket and cleaning products from the company I had joined when I was nine. I knew by that time I had to help my daddy with work. So now I work as a cleaner for big posh fancy houses with rich snobs in. I sometimes couldn't stand it from all the disrespect I got of family and family children.
          I felt the wind swivel around me and the scent of leaves and autumn hovering over me, lifting me.
          I seen the house I was ordered to clean. This house had a fancy porch and seating. Large portray windows and burgandy drapes. The front yard was large and open, the grass so green. I gwaked in amazement and climbed the steps to the house, I knocked a silent knock. Hoping no-one would answer.
A butler type of person answered, he was dressed in a tuxedo and pressed black pants. He had a clean cut silver moustache, his hair greying, he had a warm smile as he seen me. Yet I was different to him.
          "Why, you must be young Daisy?" His voice was deep and raspy.
I nodded and he looked me up and down.
           "Child you must be 12?" He had a shocked expression, I found it normal, my ponytail was coming out from my hair bobble. I smiled awkwardly.
            "15, Sir." I hefted my bucket and cloths higher up my shoulder.
He was about to speak again, until he was dragged away by a woman who appeared at the door.
             She wore a long old victorian dress, a beautiful blue mixed with specks of green. Her ash blonde hair tied up into a painful looking bun at the back of her head. Her face was set and stern, she looked like a strict woman.
             "Humph," She yelled back at that butler. "Alfred, don't talk to this girl, she's nothing important." She gave me a dirty look, looking me up and down, staring at my face, she looked disgusted. I just smiled at her, knowing my fate in life, I was used to it already. She didn't like my smile, it seemed to blow back at her.
            "Child," She opened the door wider and stepped back, really far back like I had a disease or something. "I wish not to know your name," She shut the door. For seconds I looked at the large ceiling that held images of clouds, wars and angels. All picture perfect and beautiful to glare at. I looked around, seeing a wide staircase with that Alfred standing at the base of them.
             The woman was walking, "Keep up child!" She moved to large windows. "I want you to clean all these windows. This floor and the outside of the windows." She had that smug smile on like 'I'm-better-than-you' smile, I always got that smile.

I washed the windows inside and washed the floor. Alfred helped me by bringing me a large pair of ladders. I was at the back door, getting out the area where it smelt like bleach and chemicals. Clean though.
             I gazed at the back yard they have, a large expanse of green fields like a meadow, the porch in the front was small compared to the back porch. It was grand, with heavy wood panels and secure swinging seats. The colour white and black suited this style. The fields were covered in wheat. This was a wheat field. It came 10 feet from the porch, after the porch was lined dried mud, a walk path fully surrounded the meadow.
            I turned to the windows, knowing I had to do them to get my little wage of £10 for washing windows and floor. I walked to the window, picked up my cloth and poured bleach cleaner onto the cloth, I felt the toxic seep into the cloth. My hands were pruney and soggy. I quickly wiped at the window, hearing birds tweet and sing by the trees and roof, I started to sing my own poem.

          The sky is daylight blue,
If the skys stayed like this forever,
I would too.
This sad and lonely girl with nothing to help her get by,
Her nightmares filled with hopeful dreams,
At night she'll cry.
Wanting a life to reach her,
Wants her wings to unfold,
To curl at the edges,
Tips dotted gold.
Then just fly away,
To be forever free.

I hummed a tune along to it while I looked at the foamed windows, all white with suds. I smiled and got my window wiper and silkily wiped a streak through the window.
           I either imagined it, but I seen a person behind me.
I turned quick.
           He was a boy, roughly my age or older, his hair coloured ash blonde and eyes crystal water blue with lips of pale white. He was dressed in a t-shirt and fancy jeans, and posh trainers. His hair was over his eyes and across his head.
           He smiled at me, like I-knew-what-you-were-doing smile.
I looked down embarrassed. I felt suddenly hot, flushed.
           "Hello," He had a formal voice, beautiful voice. I smiled, "I'm Michael Andrew Mullane." He held out a hand, his hands looked very strong. I took his hand steadily and shook.
            "Daisy Harpor." I was quite speechless from him.
"You have a beautiful voice, by the way." I took my hand from his and covered my face. Suddenly embarrassed to the limit. Thank god he couldn't see me blush from my coloured skin.
             "Michael Andrew Mullane!?" Michael and I turned to the window to find the woman standing. I noticed clearly that she must be his mother. He sighed, I seen Mrs. Mullane rush to the back door, dress in hands.
              "Michael, get away from that N****r!" I boiled at that name, it was like I didn't have a name in this world! My feelings are just as hurtful as yours. I was looking down at my battered old trainers, feeling ashamed of myself.
              "Mother!" Michael slightly yelled, he seemed annoyed. "Have you heard yourself! I'm just greeting her!" He was very annoyed. I didn't know what to do. I was looking at my feet, feeling very much awkward.
               I heard his mother 'humph' and walk away with her heels clicking away.
"Sorry about that," His smile was very warm and welcome. He didn't seem to take his eyes off of mine. I felt uneasy.
              "It's fine," I smiled awkwardly.
"Are you coming back after you've done this job? Like tomorrow?" He seemed keen and eager. I couldn't help but feel his curiosity.
              "Possibly."

Reviews

[Daydreamer54]

. So now I work as a cleaner for big posh fancy houses with rich snobs in. I sometimes couldn't stand it from all the disrespect I got of family and family children.
-So now i work as a maid for rich snobs. Sometimes i can't stand the disrespect i get from the family.
Aw i think Michael likes her. this is what i eant by concealing the backstor from us for a while like about how she got beat up when she was younger, that could be a reason why she doesn't trust Michael in future chapters,if that will be the case.

[Jack Isaac]

well done as in the last chapter "Nice writing here, no complaints at all..." however, it may be headed into cliche status... a very familiar story, and what makes this different from all other stories like this? I (just a an ordinary reader) would want the next chapter to really hit home about what makes this story unique. ...just my humble opinion of course... extend this chapter just a little bit to foreshadow, to give the reader a sample of what they are in for (aside from the obvious). So far so good.

[Sweets]

That mother is such a nooboid!!! makes me wanna slap her T__T
I feel sad for Daisy =/
she's not respected at all!!!!
but well...I hope they turn out to be friends :)

[SoulCrusader (Yas)]

I just love how you describe the characters....and the woman is a real piece of work...however Alfred and Michael Andrew Mullane (love how he says his whole name) are nice people.

Excellent chapter :)