The light was dim because there was only a small window less than a square meter in size, half the height of a regular window. Khanyi fumbled for the light cord, but even when the light was on, it didn’t brighten much. She could see thick dust everywhere and cobwebs hung in the corners.
She went to the shared bathroom, where there was no hot water for a shower, so she had to use a basin to wash away the dirt repeatedly with cold water, and she simply treated a few bleeding wounds before putting on the work clothes Abigail had given her.
The gray outfit and apron, combined with her black eyes and hair, made her look somewhat dull and drab. She had once worn luxurious silk gowns, a purple mink shawl, and seasonal dresses from top boutiques, but none of those compared to the practicality of this plain work uniform.
“Why are you so late?” Abigail stood in the laundry room with her hands on her hips, her tone already impatient. She had somehow brought a pile of dirty clothes. “Finish these before dinner, or don’t even think about eating!”
She had only seen the help at home wash clothes, those women gathered in twos and threes, bringing wooden basins and clothes to the water’s edge, using soap, washboards, and wooden sticks to scrub repeatedly, chatting as if it were a joyful task. But when she did it, it was a painful and arduous process.
She had never washed a decent-sized piece of clothing herself. She scrubbed for a long time, creating a basin of bubbles, but the grease and grime on the clothes didn’t budge at all. Abigail brought over another large pile of dirty clothes, and Khanyi looked at the mountain of laundry in front of her, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and worked even harder.
By the end of the day, she was exhausted. When she finally finished washing all the clothes, it was already 9 PM, and Abigail followed through with her punishment of not allowing her to eat dinner. Khanyi endured her hunger and grievances, opened the small iron door, lowered her head, and crawled in like a mouse.
She simply had no strength left to tidy up this room. She was very sleepy and tired, wanting to sleep, but there was no bed, only an empty iron bed frame. She saw a broken door panel standing in the corner, wiped it down with a rag, and with great effort, laid the door panel down on the iron frame; this became her new “bed.”
She spread out a thin blanket and a sunken goose feather pillow that Abigail had assigned to her, then collapsed onto the bed. The basement was damp, with a musty smell, but it wasn’t too cold; the ceiling was lined with heating pipes, so at least she had a place to stay.
She didn’t fall asleep immediately; after lying down, the sensations from earlier slowly resurfaced. Her whole body ached, her legs felt as heavy as lead, her empty stomach ached, and the most intimate part of her felt a sharp, knife-like pain.
She turned on her side, curling her legs, as if this position could slightly alleviate the pain. In utter helplessness, she let out a bitter smile; at least it meant she was still alive, she comforted herself. Then, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep amidst the pain.
In her dreams, she was barefoot, desperately running on the cold ground, but she could never escape that black shadow. As the shadow drew closer, she let out a scream.
“No! Don’t!”
Khanyi woke up from this nightmare, a sliver of morning light streaming through the half-open window. She climbed out of bed, maneuvering around the dust-covered clutter, and looked outside. The sky was just beginning to brighten, the earth still shrouded in a dark mist.
Outside the window, there was a small pot of flowers, white blossoms and tender green leaves, trembling in the cold wind. Even so, its upright posture was filled with the power of life. But before she could examine the little flowers more closely, Abigail, wearing a nightgown, yawned and kicked open her door.
Get out, you lazy pig! Go wipe the floor in the hall, then help in the kitchen to prepare breakfast!” After saying this, she continued yawning and dragged her feet back to her room.
She dressed, picked up the heavy water bucket, and knelt on the ground, wiping the wooden floor piece by piece along the seams. The floor wasn’t very dirty, and the hygiene in other areas was well-maintained because the entire house belonged to him.
Besides a few of his aides and drivers, very few outsiders came in. However, she had to clean every nook and cranny, which took her quite some effort. By the time she finished wiping the floor, Abigail and a few other servants had also gotten up, each busy with their own tasks.
