New surroundings

(Zu) Zuwena's Pov

I remember being afraid of strangers and darkness during my first year at "Blue River Academy" (in South Tijan) and having trouble sleeping in a bed that was unfamiliar to me at the time, but now, here I am, walking in the doorway of a stranger's home, my mind pleading for just a good night's sleep, but only facing a woman chit-chatting nonstop, but all I want is to get into a warm bed and close these tired eyes.

I stood beside the handsome stranger, holding my hand as I waited for him and the girl to end their conversation. After their talk, the gentleman/stranger walked me upstairs to the bedroom, where he bid me good night before disappearing, something I very much appreciated. At that moment, I welcomed the darkness and went to the happiest place in my life.

******The next day*****

Between the sheets has been the only place where I have felt at peace; the pillow has been the only friend I've ever had; and sleeping has been my psychotherapy and the only place where I can be myself without faking or hiding my feelings and emotions, as I have done my entire life.

Putting my feet down while shutting my eyes, anticipating the coldness of the floor to never happen, I opened my eyes to check and discovered a large carpet covering the entire room, which was odd because there was none. Perhaps there was, but I'm not sure.

I looked around because I hadn't done so the night before; the room was decorated in vintage white, which was lovely but not to my taste; I am not the girly type; I prefer darker colors, which some people, including the matrons and students at Blue River Academy, found distressing and strange, which was trespassing for me because I don't like being the center of attention as well as being a topic that may be discussed by a variety of people.

I started wandering around the room, searching for the bathroom, because I needed to wash my face before actually getting back on the road. I can't continue taking advantage of the stranger's generosity; oh my God, I forgot to ask him his name last night; I'm so embarrassed.

After cleaning my face, I slipped into my sandals and walked outside to try to find a way out of this place. I really needed to get back on the road, but first I decided to find that man who brought me here last night and thank him; then I needed to find a way to contact my auntie, who may or may not be up already.

For a brief moment, I assumed I was the only person in the house; I attempted to vaguely remember where we passed last night as I attempted to get to the entrance door.

However, the house appeared to be larger and more artistic, which piqued my interest in continuing to look around as the walls were covered with absolutely gorgeous portraits and paintings; as an artsy person, I quickly forgot the whole plan to get to the main entrance. I continued to examine several canvases, each one leading to a lengthy, winding staircase that I followed once I realized what had gotten me out of the bedroom.

I began ascending the stairs, which led me to the second floor, where I followed what appeared to be sounds and found myself in a kitchen with four girls, a pair of whom were drying plates as well as washing numerous different utensils, and the other pair were busy cooking on the cooker.

Everyone seems to be willfully blind to my presence, and it is not surprising given that it is something I am totally and utterly accustomed to. I said good morning and attempted to strike up a conversation because I needed their assistance in locating the gentleman who brought me here last night, and I planned to thank him before hitting the road. I had to come up with a way to get to my aunt or start looking for a job to eventually sustain myself.

Some of them responded. One of the girls who washed the plates offered me a seat, which I politely refused and asked for her help instead. She smiled at me and instructed me to wait for her there while she ran to get someone else to take me to speak to the man since she couldn't accompany me there because she was ordered to help in the kitchen making breakfast.

After a brief interval, I was trailing behind one of the maids, who had asked me to follow her and not make a sound from the start of this brief excursion, something that I gladly did since I would never bother to have any conversation with a stranger. Who am I kidding? Last night, I even poured my whole heart out to a man I didn't know. I even ended up spending the night in his mansion, but the women in this house have indeed been acting weirdly and aggressively thus far, yet I don't care because I'll be gone soon.

I took a second to compose myself as we approached a dark, tall door, and the maid left me there in front of it. Just as I was about to knock, the door was immediately opened by none other than the stranger from last night. I caught myself in the act of checking him out and ended up being called out for it. He tapped my shoulder in an attempt to get my attention. Are you all right? He inquired, and as he attempted to seek something in my eyes, I locked eyes with him and quickly looked away. "Umm, take a picture; it might last longer!" he said.

I quickly started my business to avoid any awkwardness, hoping to just get over the entire situation, only to be told to follow him. So what's wrong with everyone in this house giving me instructions? I thought. As we made our way to wherever he was taking me, I started convincing him I needed to get back on the road, but he shushed me up, which irritated me.

Having no other choice, I followed him as he took me back to the kitchen, as there was no one there. At that moment, the house was quieter, as if we were the only two people left in the entire building.

He assisted me in sitting down and offered me coffee after he approached the stove and started cooking, which surprised me because I had only ever seen a man cook on television or in commercials.

I sat patiently waiting for him to finish his cooking. After a while, he got plates from the cabinet and placed one in front of me, then dished the meal and refilled my coffee cup. He gets me a fork before taking a seat next to me. "Eat!" he said. This surprised me. Man, I may be fleeing my father and attending a harsh boarding school, but no one is going to treat me like a puppy. Individuals attempting to rule over me, bossing me around, and telling me what to do

Excuse me! I said as I turned to face him. I'm sorry. Did I say something insensitive? He inquired, almost innocently. I declared, "I don't like being told what to do!" I don't mind if he's taken back because he looked so I put the piece of bacon in my mouth as he sat there stained.