The broken Maid

A lot has happened since that day. *I cry quietly to myself as I somberly narrate that day in my mind, the day I was bought out by my master and abused, abused in a lone dungeon just like this one, and when the feds heard my cry of help they did nothing. now I sit quietly in this cold dark dungeon of a master who says he will do no harm to me, but eventually will because I… I was born to be a tool used by the masters I serve. I narrate the once bad memory in my head and think to myself as I wipe the tears away from my eyes I should go upstairs into the cold house and see if master needs anything. I quietly step up the stairs, my ragged feet scraping against the carpet, my slow quiet winces escaping from my mouth as I feel the stings of my still hurting scars as I walk down the long narrow hallway towards masters bedroom thinking to myself. I hope this master is the one. I quietly open his door to see him fast asleep, so I decide not to bug him, his room is dark, but still somehow illuminates the moonlight and as I sit on the side of his bed, I softly stare at him and let out a weak smile before I get back up and walk out of the room, making sure to shut his door quietly. I then go down to my loftly lonely cell in the basement and sit down and as my memories of this old basement race through my head I slowly let out a tear and try to sleep but just cant seem to shut my eyes or even sleep