"Daniel did you miss your big sister?" I smiled when Daniel opened the door dirty from his chimneys.

"Mother it's Alice!" He jumped out to hug me and then I wished to not have come say goodbye.

"Alice?" I heard mother's voice coming to the door. "You did not say you would come see us," my brother let go and she brought us in the house.

"Alish," Joan giggled her way to me and I brought her up in my arms.

"Look at you Joan so tiny with father's eyes," I tickled her.

"Is everything alright? Should you not be at the Howard household at this hour?" Mother asked me sitting down and I looked at Daniel who looked guilty of telling mother stories.

"Everything is fine, the pace is slow today."

"So your employer has not lived up to Mrs. Howlett's rumors?"

"He has not, you needn't worry mother."

"Is he very old? Or wounded from battle?" It was like mother and I were the same side of the same coin at times, we both made the same predictions.

"Not as far as I can tell, he is simply alone."

"That is quite odd, should you continue to work there?"

"All is fine mother, Mrs. Howlett's rumors have come to nothing."

"Good."

"Yes," I wished to dismiss any more conversation of his behavior or I'd have to divulge things mother would not like, "and I came here because I have some news."

"What sort of news?"

"My employer will be going to the country side tomorrow and I am leaving for an extended time to join the other servants there."

"I thought you would always be stationed in London," she said a little worried by the news.

"Do not leave us Alice," Daniel insisted hearing our conversation.

"Oh come I won't be gone forever," I rubbed his cheek and sat him on my lap.

"I guess you must if you are to keep the job," mother concluded.

"Yes, I must."

"Maybe it will be for the best, they say the country has better airs for the health."

"Yes, they do say that."

"Well then tea before you go," mother said instead of telling me she would miss me or a goodbye.

It was then I realized my broken spirit was passed down from my mother, this was what the master saw when I agreed to everything; my mother. She looked more broken than ever since father died and the patched up life was visible to the outsider. It was a state of content living yet never daring to be anything more than barely pleased which made us invisible to the world. How sad it was, how depressing, how pitiful we looked hiding our sadness only to blend in with the background of our gloomy London city.

"Miss Stewart shall we?" Mrs. Hall asked.

"Yes," I said ready to go.

Instead of sending the servants first so we may prepare the Mrs. Hall, Gertie and I would be traveling together lastly, the master went ahead with Mr. Eugene like always doing things his way. We took a train then a carriage to go to the house where two other servants awaited for us, Mr. Bert and Ms. Johnson.

"Mr. Bert how are you?" Mrs. Hall said she was always in good humor.

"You find us both in good health," he nodded and helped her out of the carriage.

"Now Ms. Johnson tell me all about the local news we have been away for too long," Mrs. Hall went on to talk to the girl who looked no more than five or so years older than me.

"Good morning you must be Miss Stewart, welcome to Stanley Hall," Mr. Bert helped me out of the carriage, he was older than Mr. Eugene but still in apparent vigor for working.

"Good morning Mr. Bert and thank you," I said looking up to see a gracious smile and the country house, it was so very different then the one I worked with my aunt Mrs. Green, the first thing being, it was grander.

The bare black of the trees, the withered gardens and eroded external stones gave the island like Stanley Hall a gothic heaviness. The London townhouse was nowhere near as dark, frigid and cemetery like as Stanley Hall which was half built on a steep hill overlooking a windy nearby grey sea. Inside our steps echoed much more as the room sizes were wide, tall, spacious with windows so tall my neck might snap from stretching as the painted ceilings held my attention.

I do not remember for how long I stood in the middle of this room tracing the angels, the people and clouds trying to imagine how a little light might make them shine while Mrs. Hall, Ms. Johnson, Gertie, Mr. Eugene and Mr. Bert dematerialized.

"What do you think?" The master asked me with his sleeves rolled up and messy hair.

"Oh good morning master I did not..."

"I asked what do you think Miss Stewart?"

"Uh I am not sure it is so dark in here may I sir?" I pointed to the curtains.

"Go on," he shrunk his eyebrows together as if questioning my proposal making lines appear on his forehead and once the curtain was opened he shrouded his face from the light coming in.

"I think sir... it is the most beautiful thing I have ever beheld." I looked up at it, there were colors everywhere the angels even seemed to whistle a tune or dance along to the light and the master looked up at it with me.

"It seems you have discovered the power of light Miss Stewart."

"I will put the curtain back master."

"No, leave it, after all I do not wish to deprive you of the most beautiful thing you have ever beheld."

"Uh thank you master," I bowed my head and closed my eyes.

"Mr. Howard will do from now on," he told me disappearing into the darkness of Stanley Hall as I went to look for the rest of the staff.

The house was dusty as it could be for it had been closed practically every day of the year, the master visited it once a year so the servants could clean it from top to bottom. Once it looked glittering new he would close it again and leave as told by Gertie it did not please her to be leaving such a grand house alone. Mrs. Hall said when the master's father was alive, Sir William, there were plenty of gatherings, dinner parties, concerts and dancing, Stanley Hall was once the talk of London town and the happiness it once radiated I could never in my wildest dreams imagine it.

"I bet not Mrs. Hall," I agreed while Mrs. Hall who sighed with nostalgia for the old days.

"No more of this talk of the past, Master William may he rest in peace, is no longer with us and you shall not mention this gossip of mine to not a soul. It will not leave your lips under any circumstance, the master does not talk about it and will not stand for anyone mentioning it either you hear me child?"

"Yes, of course Mrs. Hall" I wished then she had not told me.

"Now go clean his room while he's gone for a walk with Eugene, it's the one in the far left of the top floor. Ms. Johnson would do it but she is out getting some extra staff to help with the upkeep this month as Mr. Howard commanded."

"Right away."

This was to be the first full day working as a maid at the Stanley Hall, I had gotten lost twice trying to find my way to the kitchen and to find his room was just the same. As I came upon what I guessed to be the left wing there were two doors, one on one side of the hall and the other in front of it. I randomly chose to unlock the tall ornate door on the left as to keep with the left of things yet my eyes feasted on a bedroom surely no one had cleaned or even glanced at for many years.

The spiders had built their cobwebs everywhere like the smoky London air, the dust was so thick my old boots left a mark wherever they stepped on the floor and a white dress laid on the bed rotting away with a bouquet of dismantled flowers on top of it. There were jewels of the finest rarities on a vanity as if waiting to be worn, a veil on top of a chair and shoes in a box who were once ready to walk around now stood still in the dead silence in this large room. Adorned boxes filled with clothing amongst other things detailed in a beautiful monogram with the initials L. H. As my curiosity had been almost fed one of the clothes fell of the hanger, without me laying a finger on it and a picture flew into my face setting me into terror.

"Dear God!" I jumped back without as much as touching the picture closed the doors to the wardrobe and ran out of the bedroom into the master's room where I felt safe again. When the room had its fire and was ready to receive Mr. Howard, I left back downstairs avoiding the room in front of his and its owner L. H.

"Oh dear Miss Stewart you look positively dusty," Mr. Bert said as I fled past him.

"Yes I will go clean myself now Mr. Bert, excuse me" I nodded and went to my room to lay a hold of the Bible that belonged to my father. It was the one thing of single importance in our house, it was beautiful, expensive and ornamental, a family treasure he and mother cherished and I feared the time had come to put it to good use.

"Goodnight Mrs. Hall," I said after finding the right room to clean then ready to retire myself upstairs, the day had been long and there were still a great deal to do for the coming month for the house was a big project.

"Goodnight Miss Stewart," Mrs.Hall said.

"Goodnight Miss Stewart," Mr. Bert who took a liking to me wished me.

"Goodnight Mr. Bert," he smiled and the rest of the staff looked the other way unaccustomed to me still.

The same night of the strangest incident I had been a part of, I awoke in the middle of the night sleepless like it was not in my habit to do then my Bible fell to the floor by my bed and I picked it up fast. Pressing hard to close my eyes I could feel as if the shadows of the room mocked me with the memory of the woman's bedroom and in cowardice I kept them closed. Why had the master preserved such a thing, who was the woman of that room, why did no one even as much mention this woman? And if I were to ask any of the staff about the woman they would know where I had been and the master would certainly punish me for going in there even if by mistake. I had to maintain the appearance of peace to get through it and in time even I would forget my indiscretion as long as no one found out about it I would go unharmed.

"Now I wake and see the light, God has kept me through the night, Make me good oh Lord I pray, Keep me, Guard me, through the day, Amen." It was my usual morning prayer but I could think of nothing else to get me through the night after seeing such a demon.

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No part, character, names, plot, setting, conflict or resolution, point of view, theme or symbolism of this story may be replicated.

Copyright: All Rights Reserved to A. Sena Gomes.

#260 on 2/17/17