Carmen's Log

In the hallowed halls of Mitzi's opulent manor, I, Carmen, the lowliest of maids, toiled tirelessly, my heart heavy with disdain and my tongue sharp as vinegar. For a mere 50p an hour, I scrubbed floors, dusted chandeliers, and endured the insufferable airs of my mistress.

'Carmen, my dear,' Mitzi would drawl, her voice like a sultry summer breeze, 'be so good as to attend to my needs.'

As I fussed over her toilette, my lips would curl into a wicked leer. I yearned to spill her precious bathwater all over her silly lapdog. But alas, my station demanded that I maintain a veneer of servitude.

One fateful evening, as I polished Mam's silver candlesticks, I heard a faint rustling beneath her bed. Curiosity got the better of me, and I cautiously peered beneath the silken canopy. To my astonishment, there lay a small, velvet box, it's contents winking at me in the candlelight.

Driven by an irresistible urge, I reached for the box and opened it. Inside nestled amidst the finest jewels, was a magnificent emerald necklace, it's stones glinting like a thousand tiny stars. A wicked grin spread across my face.

For the next few days, I wore the necklace beneath my maid's uniform, my heart pounding with a mixture of thrill and trepidation. Mitzi, oblivious to her loss, continued  to summon me with her languid commands.

'Carmen, my ring has gone missing. Find it at once!'

'Yes, Mam,' I replied, my voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

As I searched her dressing room, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. The necklace was nestled beneath her pearl tiara, hidden in plain sight. With a swift movement, I snatched it and slipped it into my pocket.

This was my revenge. I had stolen from the wealthy and arrogant Mitzi, teaching her a lesson in humility. And as I watched her frustration grow with each passing hour, a wicked sense of satisfaction washed over me.

From that day forward, Carmen the once down-trodden maid, became Carmen the cunning thief. The emerald necklace became the symbol of my triumph over adversity, a constant reminder of the day I got my own back against the upper classes.