"Crazy Master" (7)
I fought with him for power, fearing that I would be kicked out if nothing was done. But it was clear that I would be punished if I was caught. Risking my life like this... Why should I do this? As I followed Isabella, puzzled, she suddenly spoke.
– Paula, you understand that the master has had quite a few servants, right?
- Oh, yes. I've heard about this.
“Given the current situation, I tried to choose people carefully. However, all the previous servants failed to properly serve their master, and, on the contrary, my lord’s condition only worsened. However, I had to continue searching for people. But it was difficult because of the rumors floating around. That's why I invited you, Paula, even though you don't have the training to do the job.
Isabella stopped and turned around. I froze in place and turned to face her, still holding my nose with my apron. My eyes, peeking out from under my slightly parted bangs, began to tremble.
“It’s impossible to change people every time, so it’s time to change methods,” said Isabella.
- Then...
“As long as the master is okay, you can take care of him.”
It felt like tacit approval of my behavior. To be honest, I didn’t even think that they would turn a blind eye to this. What kind of strange rumors are circulating around, since they are ready to do even this?..
In any case, it was good for me. I never wanted to hurt him. I just want the gentleman to get well soon, and that is not easy to achieve.
When someone touches his body, he loses his temper, pushes them away and throws objects, causing the person to run out of the room. There was almost no furniture left in the room itself. It was either lying broken on the floor or had long since been sent to a landfill.
Moreover, if he had nothing to throw, he would scream loudly or scratch his neck and chest, tearing his flesh.
It all depended on who would give up first.
And at night I heard moans through the thin wall. Sobs of painful resistance. At night this faint sound woke me up as soon as I fell asleep. Listening to it, which seemed like it could stop at any moment, I could not close my eyes and looked into the darkness. The dream still did not return.
Vincent fought...
With death.
This thought gave me a strange feeling of... solidarity.
Live one more day, just one more day. And so from time to time. Some people would prefer to quickly close their eyes and never wake up again, but not me.
There have been times when I wished for death, but not now. Now I wanted to live. And even though my life looks like hell, death is not an option. It's normal for people to point fingers at me because I look weird. It doesn't matter if they laugh at me because I'm dirty. I am ready to bow my head and remain silent just to survive.
People said that I was making their lives miserable. Well, sometimes it was even nice to hear that.
As a result, an elderly gentleman accidentally passing by caught my eye, and I was hired as the count’s maid. And even though my master was blind and had the most unpleasant character, it did not matter at all.
When I entered Vincent's chambers, objects flew at me as if by themselves. The cup flew to the right and smashed against the door. The clock thrown to the left hit the wall and fell to the floor. A flying pillow hit me square in the face, knocking me off balance, and the impact caused the silver plate in my hand to tip forward. I felt the dessert fall to the floor.
I watched indifferently as he threw another tantrum, and wondered what I should do. Should I go further or mop the floor first? When I bent down to clean up the dessert that had fallen on the floor, another pillow immediately flew at me and hit me in the face.
As soon as the pillow fell, the decision was made. I had to do something.
I stood up and heard a muffled groan. Vincent lay curled up in a ball. It no longer contained the same poison.
This is strange... It shouldn't be like this!
- Master!
He clutched his chest, gasping for breath.
I looked at his pale face and immediately reached into my apron pocket. I pulled out a small device and stuck it in Vincent's mouth. When I pressed the bottom of the can, he began to breathe with difficulty.
I've had a few worrying moments lately, one of which was when he suddenly stopped breathing.
The first time this happened, I was so worried that I ran to the main mansion to call Isabella. I told her about Vincent's condition and she immediately called the doctor. It turned out that the owner has a personal doctor.
The doctor, seeing Vincent scratching his chest in pain, immediately began to act. He put a small device in his mouth, exactly the same as the one I was using now. I pressed hard on the bottom to help him breathe, and soon Vincent felt better.
When the doctor left, I asked what it was and they told me it was an inhaler.
[P. P.: An inhaler is a medical device used to deliver drugs to the lungs through the work of a person’s breathing. Often used for asthma.]
- I'll give you one. - said the doctor. – Keep it with you at all times.
The device, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, saved Vincent's life.
According to the doctor, due to the lack of vision, his nerves are tense and fatigue is accumulating. In addition, he does not eat on time and does not go outside, so his body is weakened, which makes him more prone to illness.
To overcome this, he needs to eat regularly, get out in the sun and do light exercise, but he has locked himself in his room. It would be better for him to take medication, but he stubbornly resists.
Like a person who is preparing to die.
I can't believe he can't see. It was scary to think what if I lost my sight too. How terrible it would be to live in the dark and rely only on sound.
Of course, I would still feel my hands, smell and taste. But none of this could save us from the invisible horror. In addition, they are constantly trying to kill him. His fear must be stronger than I thought.
At least I don't want him to die.
It's not that I sympathize with him much, but I don't want to be unemployed again.
I know.
I know that every night he fights for his life.
I pulled the inhaler out of his mouth as soon as he started breathing on his own. I put the device back in my pocket and checked it. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, his bloodless face looked exhausted, but he was breathing more evenly than a minute ago.
I tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he waved me off. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but his pursed lips indicated his displeasure.
- Don't touch me.
- Judging by the fact that you are snapping again, you are already better.
- It will be better for me if you leave.
Vincent snorted.
“You seem to enjoy being in pain.”
- Leave.
- As soon as you have breakfast.
I brought breakfast instead of the fallen dessert. The rice porridge, as always, was as thin as water. I walked up to him with a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. It's time to move on to the fight.
- Get away from me!
- Yes, yes.
I cupped his face, dodged his hands, and put a spoonful of rice into his mouth. I wanted to stick my finger in there and hold it there, but I didn’t. The last time I tried it, he almost bit it off for me.
I tried to feed him slowly, but the resistance was strong, and before I knew it, I poured all the porridge on him. Most of it leaked out and dripped onto the sheets. His neck and face were also smeared with porridge.
- No, put it away...
- A little more.
- Let go, let go, let go!
Unable to bear it any longer, Vincent began kicking me. Concentrating on feeding him, I fell backward, unable to resist the sudden force. In this struggle, I fell off the edge of the bed onto the floor.
Argh!
I groaned, clutching the back of my head as I hit the floor. Everything was blurry before my eyes. The bowl that landed next to my face spun and stopped.
Vincent's clothes were all stained with food. But he still pulled the sheets over himself and wrapped himself in them. The rice stuck to his cheeks slowly fell down.
How will I wash this? I sighed, anticipating another quarrel.
- You're crazy. - I said and added - The sheets are dirty, as are your clothes. You better change into something new.
I pick up the empty bowl and look for the spoon, but I can't figure out where it fell. Finally giving in, I brought him new bedding and pajamas. I realized that it was better to do everything at once rather than one at a time, given his temper, so I prepared everything together.
- Don't touch me.
“I won’t touch you if you change your clothes yourself.”
Hesitating for a moment, I tossed him new pajamas. Leaning against the wall, I began to watch him. Vincent shook it carefully and stopped. I climbed onto the bed to help him undress, but he pushed me away and began to change his clothes himself.
Somehow he managed to take off his dirty pajamas, and I quickly brought him a small bowl of warm water. He refused to wash himself, so I had to wet the towel to at least wipe him with it.
- Just a minute.
I stopped Vincent as he began to pull on his clean pajamas. He hit me hard on the arm. Hurt! There was a crash followed by Vincent's furious look, but I wasn't surprised. This behavior was familiar to me.
– If you change clothes now, you will still remain dirty. Wipe yourself with this first.
I shoved a wet towel into his hands. He hesitated a little, but still began to dry himself.
But he wiped himself so carelessly that it was of no use. I told him he was still dirty but they just ignored me.
In the end, I had to take the wet towel from him and dry him myself. Vincent tried to dodge, but there was nowhere to escape. I silently wiped the mess from his face, neck, hair and got out of bed.
Now the bed linen needed to be changed, but Vincent was not going to leave the bed. I looked at him and pulled the covers. He seemed to notice that I was trying to change the sheets, but he still didn't budge.
In the end, the struggle between me trying to pull the covers off and him trying to hold on ended with Vincent staggering and the sheets slipping out of his hands in an instant.
Because of this, I fell and hit the back of my head a second time.