“Idiot”.

Book drops on the floor.

“…how dare he? How dare he, for crissakes!?!”

A lamp.

“The nerve! Why do I even put up with it? Arrrggg!”
There goes the printer, the Love portrait and a few other things that make noise when they’re dropped.

Once again, she’s furious. Angry with life and all the bad things that come her way. Why did life treat her the way it did? Why had she been born into a billion-dollar family? Why did she have four closets full of haut-couture clothing, expensive shoes and countless accessories? Why was she given a four-year scholarship to the most prestigious university in the country? Why was she crowned as the most popular/gorgeous girl of her graduating class? Why the hell was she given the chance to go on a world tour and visit all the countries on the world for one year? Why had she been successful on her own as a lawyer in Manhattan? Why had she found the perfect man- a romantic writer, artist, musician- who owned a classic Harley and took her out for walks on moonlit beaches?

Why had life treated her so?

She felt cheated.

“Maybe you should just be satisfied with what you’ve been given,” her helper said submissively, though a smile had crept up her face; a smirk, actually.
It was as if she’d been slapped across the face with barbed wire, “Yeah?! Isn’t it so easy for you to say that? Well, how about YOU try living this life! Why don’t you go out there and try to live perfection?!”
At this, the maid was quiet. Indeed, there were those that were fortunately born into humble households- had nothing to eat, were starving, had no means of acquiring a good education, and had very limited clothing. Ah, life was good to many…not so much to those who had it all. Those lived in misery.

She had now settled on crying.

“If I may ask, madam, what did Frank do this time?” the maid asked, though she already knew the probable answer.
“He came home with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of beautiful red roses! Can you believe that! Can you just believe that crap!” she cried.

The maid shook her head apologetically, “I’m truly sorry to hear that. But, maybe…maybe he truly hates you deep inside and this love he shows it’s only to cover up his true emotions. Give it some time…he’ll come around.”

“Well, he better, because my patience is running low,” she muttered, raising her head up, as if forgetting her troubles upon looking into the mirror. Yes, it was a huge pimple coming out right in the middle of her forehead. At last, something to be satisfied with. She loosened her hair out and let it hang freely about her shoulders. As angry as she was, she had to get ready for her sister’s engagement party.

“Madam, here he comes,” the maid whispered as she hid herself behind the large curtains by the corner.

“That’s quite an ugly dress you have on,” he said as he stood under the door, slowly contemplating her.

She smiled at that, “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said all week,” she said as she picked up her purse, “I must say, it’s gonna be a little hard to forgive you for those flowers and the chocolate.”

“Did you not get the love letter with that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She stared at him, horrified, “There was a love letter on top of that?! Frank, I’m running out of patience with you, I really am!” she almost shrieked.

“Yeah, well, let’s get going, sweetie…your sister will be too happy if we get there too early,” he said motioning her out of the door. And so, they walked out, each dissatisfied with the other. Life was just too perfect for some, and that was more than they could take.

The maid sighed and picked up some things that had been strewn about the room. She was thankful every day for the little she’d been given. She imagined what it would have been like if she’d been born perfect and surrounded by so many perfect things. She wouldn’t be able to take it, and God knew why had spared her such a troubled life. The world was full of wonders and disappointments; full of things she didn’t quite understand. But there was one thing she did know for sure: she was glad she’d been given practically nothing.

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