"There comes a time, that, at the end of each chapter of our lives, we end the last one gracefully, in some cases, or in other cases, slam the proverbial door so had that it falls off of the proverbial hinges. Either way, it is inevitable that we will all move on with our lives as time moves on, opening new chapters and closing others as and when the time comes. This is a phenomenon which occurs in the most natural places, like the changes to the seasons when the trees bare their branches to welcome the new year with cold harsh winds and miserable rainclouds, and yet, one that we always have had a hard time coming to terms with. Or perhaps that's just me. Maybe you have no trouble moving on, but, I have trouble letting go of the past. I believe that we as people are made up of a million smaller pieces, borrowed, old and new, our past is a huge part of who we are today.
Believe me, when I say, my past is checkered, to say the least. There are times when I was an absolute and downright b*tch and as much as my younger self would like to hide it away, with hindsight, if I did then I would have never learned the hard way what I know now, and if I had learned any other way, it would not have been the same.
I wouldn't have it any other way, given the way that everyone sees me now, still, as that bratty, young socialite who entered as the youngest socialite in the history of Claptonhart and the one who spent the least time there too. `but, as they say, it's the end of an age and the start of an era. My childhood was over before it really began and my extensive training for my nonexistent socialite years came to an end at the age of 16. Given that it has been four years since then and I have been away at university, coming away with two degrees and a Masters, I would say than my transition, catalysed by the unfortunately timed death of my father, from childish brat to fully grown adult is well and truly complete. Bring on the new era, I'll be waiting."
After a long ten minutes of knocking and banging and even some kicking at the door of the rosewood study, Elise Faulkner gave up and went through the maze of hallways in the dimly lit manor to find Mr Felix who had been the butler of the manor since she could remember, from the beginning of her training contracts with Zhao Hai industries at the tender age of 15 until now. She found him one of the smaller parlours, where he sat nonchalantly, sipping from a steaming teacup and peering through his glasses at the words on the front page of that day's evening newspaper.
"Mr Felix, I understand that you're on your break at the moment -"
"Elise, I have watched you grow up, as I have nearly all the younger generation of staff, you needn't be so formal. Felix is fine." The old man commented lightly without looking up from the paper. He closed the paper with a sigh, "let me guess, she's locked herself in the study?"
"Well not exactly, I've been banging and banging but there's no reply, I'm afraid that she's done herself an injury, she's not in a great mental state at the moment and good lord knows some of the stuff in there, the accounts and the books, well, I can imagine that it would be overwhelming for her and - "
The speed at which Mr Felix stood up startled Elise to no end and she stepped back slightly, "you obviously do not know her very well yet, Elise. Miss Selena is anything but weak-willed and her mental state has been damaged before but, have a little more faith." Mr Felix replied behind his shoulder as he marched out of the room, pulling out the largest bunch of keys Elise had ever seen that barely even jingled anymore as there were just so many things attached to the chain. The old butler sorted through the set with practised ease and pulled apart a key that looked, to Elise's untrained eyes, exactly the same as at least ten of the keys in the collection.
"How did you know - "
"The same way I could ask for any figure from the sealed books within the last five years and you could tell me," his eyes twinkled in the dim light with the air of a very wise old man, "practice."
He wrangled the lock with ease and the door of the study opened with a soft click and they opened the door tentatively. The rosewood study looked as Elise has left it, the right side of the room seemed completely undisturbed, the cabinets sealed and the armchairs left where they had been every time she had ever been in the room, which, granted, was only a handful of times to begin with. The left side of the room also looked, largely untouched, the table hadn't been moved or anything, the books still in place, and much to Elise's relief, the glass cabinet seemed untouched. However, as her eyes swept over the room, a heavy terror set into the deep pits of somewhere near her stomach as she slowly began to realise that Zhao Yingyue had gone completely MIA and she had been the one to let her.
Mr Felix, the butler, however, did not seem concerned at all, in fact, there was even a small smile playing at the edge of his lips and the wrinkled imprints of laugh lines deepening next to his eyes. He put a calming hand on Elise's shoulder and turned her slightly so her line of sight was pointed directly at the edge of the desk, out from which a small pool of black hair could be seen from where they were standing.
Breathing out a huge breath she did not know she was holding, she quickly strolled towards the far side of the desk and peered over, where an almost alarming sight greeted her. Lying in a pool of seemingly meaningless childhood paraphernalia, certificates of achievement, fingerpaintings, cheap plastic medals and cracked pasta shell necklaces was an unconscious Zhao Yingyue, face tearstained, with mascara smudged around her eyes so that she looked like a panda. She was deathly pale and clutching a piece of paper that, no matter how hard Elise tried to pry it from her fingers, she wouldn't let go of. Elise knelt down and felt for a pulse and put a finger under her nose to check for breathing. "She's still alive, we need to get her to the hospital."
"Elise, she's asleep, that's all. It's late, I'll get her up to her room, there are guest rooms prepared for you. Stay, you can leave in the morning."
It took until Elise saw that Yingyue was laid into her childhood bed which was too small for her now, but the sleeping Yingyue curled up naturally to fit into her bed and turned over flippantly as if in an unconscious act of defiance, for her to calm down a little and her heart rate to return to normal.
"She's fine, you should get some rest too, the night is playing tricks on your eyes."
Mr Felix sighed as he watched the figure of Elise Faulkner leave to the guest bedroom she often stayed in when his late master had had her work late nights. Some things never changed, as a younger man, he had spent his time chasing after Selena as a child and finding her curled into impossibly small spaces where she had fallen asleep in an attempt to win hide and seek and nearly giving her nannies at the time heart attacks every few days. And now, as he was getting on and Selena had somehow become a fully grown young woman in the blink of an eye, it was comforting to know that she had not changed at all. At the core and in his heart, she would always be the little girl he caught standing on the kitchen counter in an attempt to steal a cookie; the one he carried to bed and read bedtime stories to as her mother had passed and her father was out at work and every much his own daughter as all of his other biological children who all were old enough to have families and children of their own. The very thought made him smile as he closed the door. His late master would have been happy too.