“Erin! ERIN!” I shrieked, my voice shrill and fierce with fury. I darted across the corridor and hastened down the stairs, scanning the room frantically for the culprit, but she was nowhere to be seen.
When I couldn’t find her, I stood there, looking down at myself in dismay. My cleavage was accentuated by my pink lace bra, and my exposed skin and thigh, all thanks to Erin’s mischief.
What will she gain by emptying my closet, and letting me walk half naked?
Infuriated, I blew out a big gush of breath and bit on my lips as if my life depended on it. I needed something to wear; I couldn’t just stand there in my scanty clothing.
I looked to my left, towards the pool area where I had gotten drenched in the first place. Maybe Erin was there… but why was I searching for her when I should be finding my clothes? I scampered to the area, and to my surprise, I found what I was looking for. Inside the pool were all of my clothes-tank tops, jeans, sweatpants, even undies and bras. Every fabric I owned was strewn all over the pool, sopping wet. At the edge of the water lay my bedsheet and towel. Good riddance, I thought, I’m going to be walking half-naked for the rest of the day.
With a surge of gratitude, I lunged for the bedsheet, eager for its softness to shield my exposed skin. But as I reached for the fabric, my outstretched hand dropped down in disappointment, my face twisted into different shades of anger.
“Erin, you bitch.” I muttered, my face twisted in frustration. The towel and bedsheet that I thought would be my salvation were also dripping wet, as if Erin had meticulously ensured that I would be left with nothing but soaked, useless fabric to wrap myself in.
I let out a deep sigh, walking around in desperation as the cold seep into my skin.
I turned around, bafflement etched on my face as I was uncertain about what to do next. I strode out of the pool area, going for any room available to provide clothing-anything to wrap myself in to face the devil that was tormenting me.
All the other rooms were locked; it wasn’t like I had extra keys or master keys.
Then I scurried to Erin’s room, and I was met with the same result-she had locked her room and probably left the house.
Leaving me alone to fume and fret in frustration. I stare at her door as if that would somehow magically make her reappear.
I slumped against the door, defeated, and slid down to the floor. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by my own ragged breathing. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of helplessness, unable to escape the undertow of Erin’s torment and manipulation. Trying to figure out her true intentions was like navigating a minefield.
And then, I saw it-a small piece of paper on the floor, almost invisible against the carpet. As the devils would have it, she always leaves trails of chaos behind, which was a warning for more to come. Scoffing, I snatched it up, hoping against hope that it might hold some clue, some hint of where Erin had gone and why.
I skimmed through the paper, and the note read: ARE YOU READY FOR MORE DRAMA?
“Definitely not,” I muttered under my breath, flinging the paper away.
Curling up on the floor with my back against the wall, I decided to calm my anger down and focus on how to solve the present issue- I needed clothes to wear.
I would be a disaster if I met Erin in this state; God knows what I might do to her. But deep down, I feared her retaliation. The mental torture was now more like her day job, leaving me trapped in indecision about what to do to save myself.
I sprang to my feet, defeat weighing me down as I trudged to the living room.
I sighed repeatedly, glancing at my body again, feeling more helpless than before-drowning in my predicament-and didn’t even notice when the door flung open.
“This place is huge, Ross…” An unfamiliar voice trailed off in astonishment. I stood frozen, my half-naked body on full display. My focus snapped to the door as it swung open, and a gasp escaped my lips. My eyes widened in surprise as I frantically grabbed for something, anything, to cover myself, but there was nothing I could use.
Mr. Clinton, Miss Ross, and a woman I didn’t recognize walked in, their eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. Initially, they didn’t notice my state of undress, but my gasp drew their attention. All eyes were on me now, their faces etched with shock, bewilderment, and a hint of embarrassment.
I felt my face burn with embarrassment as I desperately tried to conceal myself, my hands awkwardly attempting to cover my exposed skin. The room fell silent, as they were probably wondering why I was walking around with only bra and panties.
“Sarah, what happened? what is the meaning of this?” Mr. Clinton, having recovered from the shock and confusion, asked, his eyes flashing with disapproval.
Before I could respond, I was thrown another question.
“Sarah…” Miss Ross chimed in, her eyes wandering over me in confusion. “Why are you half-naked? What happened to you?” she asked, her voice low and gentle, but not enough to alleviate the awkwardness in the room.
“Looks like we’ve caught you in a compromising position young lady.” the unfamiliar woman scoffed, her face twisted with a hint of disgust and amusement.
In a blur of embarrassment, I stormed out of the room, disregarding how my half-naked body jostled with each hasty step.
My cheeks burned as realization dawn on me. Now I understood Erin’s cruel intentions behind her plot. The empty closet, my clothes drenched in the pool-all those were for this purpose: to embarrass me in front of Mr. Clinton and his mother.
I bolted to my room and slammed the door behind me, as if trying to shut away my humiliation. Everything that had happened felt so awkward -An unexpected humiliation that Erin made me go through.
If it were only Mr. Clinton, I wouldn’t be bothered, but with the new guest and Miss Ross arriving, I’m getting a bit concerned.
I slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor, with a mix of exasperation and defeat.
Huddling up on the floor, I tried shutting out what had happened, focusing on finding a way to prove this was all Erin’s sabotage-her cruel plot to humiliate me.
I flopped onto my bed, trying to gather my thoughts and figure out how to explain the situation to Mr Clinton.