My name was Amelia Price. No, not was. Is. I don't care what that cantankerous old bag says. My name is Amelia Price. My parents didn't bear the surname Price, and they certainly didn't name me Amelia. When I came into the world, I was Francisca Richardson. A long and formal name such as that has never suited me, even as a baby. It sounds to me as if my parents wanted me to grow into the name. Sadly, I don't I would have even if they'd been able to keep me. I'm quite sure I was born disobedient and prideful, sadly. Apparently, pride is one of the seven deadly sins. I suppose that means I'll go straight to hell. I guess that means even in death I won't get to see my parents. I'm not exactly sure whether or not I actually want to. For whatever reason they gave me to that awful institution, I'm quite sure it was not because they loved me. I don't need any parental figures anyway. I'm slightly small for my age, but I spent most of my childhood acting like a target for the seniors. I showed little consideration for their tiresome rules, made unwelcome comments and was generally viewed as a troublemaker. It wasn't just the senior girls who bet me. The mistresses at the institution simply didn't seem to have any patience for me at all. I was left with bruises and blood, and I still felt like I was making progress. I never cried, never protested and never told tales on the other girls, even when I was forced to take the blame for their misdeeds. Most of the younger girls seemed quite wary of me, and though there were a few snoots who thought me below them, no one ever tried to fight me. The more beatings I endured, the thicker my skin became, and by the time I was about eleven, I barely flinched when the big girls punched me, and kept my balance when the mistresses whacked me with the cane. Even some of the boys seemed nervous in my presence. It was quite satisfying, actually. I even found myself some useful acquaintances. Well, I call them acquaintances, but they were actually more like friends. Just a handful, but they were more then enough. Before the first one came along, I'd gotten used to been alone, even in my crowded dormitory. Their names were Hanna, Una, Dolly and Ella. I didn't ever even ask their surnames. I didn't feel like I needed their surnames. People had always said I lacked curiosity. And now that I think of it, I often failed to take interest in what was around me. Someone could've died in that institution and I wouldn't twitch an eyelid. People certainly would've died during my time there. One might have even been in my class, now that I think of it. There was a desk vacant for a while before Una filled it. I'm not even going to bother lying. Una was my favorite. She was tough, but not on my scale. At first, it was obvious she was a rival of sorts. She actually seemed to want the blame for my misdeeds. It was quite funny. We sort of drifted together naturally, and we instinctively grouped together whenever needed. Most of my friends went into servitude before me, Dolly with her well behaved, serious manner, Hanna with her intelligence and even Una with her innocent appearance. I do hope she wasn't dismissed for not living up to standards. That left me and Ella. Ella seemed the most likely to go into servitude out of us all. She was calm, logical and confident, perfect qualities for a servant. Or so I thought. The institution managed to get rid of us both at the same time. When I heard we'd be working in the same estate, we were both ecstatic. Yes, Ella as well. Ella, who's usually so calm. The woman came to collect us, and well, here we are. In a carriage to a new life. We knew each other well enough to get a good idea of what each other thought of Ms Goodwin. I quite sure we were both quite repulsed. She was vain, irritable and obviously cunning. Exactly like Mrs Ogden, only not as cunning. Ms Goodwin, or Joy as I've decided to mentally refer to her as, seemed to take to Ella like a duck to water. Typical. But when she looked at me, only ever looking at her with defiance in my eyes, a sneer would creep though her face, and it was glaringly obvious she thought very little of me. Typical. I didn't think much of her at all. She has a personality to match her appearance. Her pale skin emphasized her many wrinkles, with a pimple here and a freckle there. It all looked rather messy, to be honest. Although her hair was pinned up and trapped under a hat, her fringe revealed her dull blonde hair, plain and boring. Her hazel eyes were a bit too close together, and when she looked at people her scowl made her all the more uglier. Her attire was dark and serious, and she gave off that exact sort of aura. In short, she was the worst sort of person to meet. When I finally got bored of staring out the window and started paying attention, she'd begun to explain servants in the mansion." Usually the house steward would attend to your arrival, but recently he was forced to fire both the kitchen maid and the page boy for illegal sexual intercourse. Rather disgraceful, if you ask me." She crinkled her nose in a rather distasteful way, as if there was a bad odor in the air." One of you will be replacing Mae as the new kitchen maid, while the other will be assisting Jessica as a house maid. My recommendation to you two? Keep away from those males. All they'll ever bring is misfortune." I raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping near the corners of my mouth. She really thought they were stupid, did she not? It's not like they wanted to talk to any of the male servants anyway. They'd grown up around girls. Who needs boys? There was one fact about this arrangement that angered me." Joy," I said absently, "you separated us on purpose, didn't you?" Silence came after my words. Joy was staring at me as if I was some some of demon, straight from hell. It was a look commonly used on me. I didn't mind at all." That's Ms Goodwin to you, you little whatsit! Don't forget that you are under my orders, and should I decide to report you to the house steward, you'll be just like Mae! So keep your burning tongue still, you hear?"
Ever since then, things went from bad to worse.
Ever since then, things went from bad to worse.