Elegance exuded everywhere throughout the estate where I felt fortunate to be employed.

The first few months proved to be satisfying, it was so much better than being homeless. I called the agency who had guided me here and thanked them over and over again ... I was finally safe from the storms, or so I thought.

Sunlight dappled the room I called my own, but I didn't spend time there, the dust motes needed chasing every day and I walked endlessly, my duster working furiously to keep them at bay.

"Miss Andrews." There was the voice of command.

"Yes, Mrs. Preston?"

"Would you be so kind as to help Pauline find her cat? It seems to have disappeared."

"Of course, Mrs. Preston." I knew where he was. He was usually in the den, hidden behind the giant palm plants, watching the birds just outside the window. He would sit for hours at a time, twitching his tail in frustration at never being allowed to go outdoors and just be a cat.

"There you are, Reggie." I stroked his silky coat and he closed his eyes as if in ecstasy. I had never seen Pauline pet her cat. She always placed him on a chair nearby, he was more a decoration than a pet.

"Come on, let's go see Pauline for a while." His purr became loud as I cradled him in my arms and I wished he were mine. I walked slowly, enjoying holding the huge cat. He lay like an infant in my arms, his golden eyes shut, accepting and kind.

"Miss Pauline, here is Reggie ... he was sunbathing again." She kept reading her music, no thank you or conversation, so I turned and quickly fled.

I slept fitfully that night, unable to relax, I dreamt of butterflies and winged creatures that carried me away to my own mansion and maids. I was free to sing my own songs and it felt wonderful.

When the alarm went off at six a.m. I did not want to rise and leave the places in my dreams.



The piano music drifted throughout the house, sometimes soothing, but other times angry. Sometimes I caught myself humming along if I recognized the melody, and sometimes the sound grated on my nerves. Increasingly, I found it impossible to concentrate and longed for the piano to stop its incessant noise.

The people who lived here, were kind enough, but somehow they always made me feel inferior. The simple tone of their voices, told me everything. And though I was the same age as their daughter, she would not speak to me other than to ask me to fetch something for her. She meant no harm, but it began to get to me over time. And I slowly fell into the pit of jealousy that would become my demise.

I began to watch the Pauline every day as she practiced the piano lessons that were given her by her mother, who was stern, if not strict and always wore black or dark colored dresses.

The music she played was always executed flawlessly and the girl rarely showed any emotion as her fingers danced along the ivory keys.

She had thick, black hair, long and flowing, matching her elegant face. And I wanted to be her. I wanted her talent, her beauty and her life. As I watched her, I tried to imagine what it was like to be pampered, loved and privileged.

I couldn't stand looking in the mirror at my own reflection anymore. It was intolerable and made me very angry at having been so short changed. How was it fair, that one could have everything and another, nothing? I held the Bible in my hands as tears of shame fell on its cover, hot and full of feelings that I could no longer control.

Rage suddenly ruled and I shook with fury at the unfairness of the world. I was but a lowly maid. No one cared about me, except when they needed, or wanted something. I hated mopping floors, cooking, polishing rich people's cutlery. I hated their clothes, the way they talked and lived. More than that, I hated myself.

There was the princess again ... playing a concerto of some sort, the piano virtually singing beneath her graceful fingers.

I held the Good Book and the long scissors close. Praying for help, I took off the hideous maid's uniform. Naked before God, I went to meet my destiny.