May Thompson (2)

"Miss Thompson? Miss Thompson? Do you hear Ajax?"

Coming from both the phone and behind the door was the high pitched of an energetic girl. May stared at her screen with a dumbfounded look—was this an elaborate prank of a sort? 

The doorknob turned and the door creaked open, "Oh, it is open."

May had already hid herself behind the kitchen's table. Her heart rate ahead greatly increased and her mind was sharper than ever.

"(A-An intruder? Is this really happening? Wait, calm down, you can still—

"Huh? Why are you sitting on the ground, Miss Thompson ?"

"Kyaaaaaaaaaahh!!!!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!"

Both May and the intruder jumped in fear. Quickly May grabbed a kitchen knife and pointed towards her unwanted visitor.

"G-Get out!!! Get out, or I'll call the police!!!"

"H-Huh?"

The intruder initially hiding her face with a mop slowly lowered her "weapon" and stared at May. It was a young girl, probably younger than her daughter. She had white hair tied in a side ponytail and was wearing the black uniform generally associated with maids though a bit stylized. What struck her more though was the girl's blue eyes and star-shaped pupils.

"(What… are those? Contact lens?)"

"Huh, you are Miss Thompson , aren't you?" said the girl, tilting her head. "Nice to meet you! Ajax is Ajax! Ajax has come to clean your body!"

The girl stepped towards May but the threat of the knife kept her at distance.

"I said stay where you are!!!"

"Huh?"

The girl seemed confused looking at the ceiling.

"Ah, Ajax understands! Miss Thompson must want Ajax to…" She produced a bottle of cleaning spray, "The will of Mr. Clean shall be done through pchit-pchits!!! Alleluia!!!"

At that moment the girl disappeared in thin air. May, panicked, tried to step back but she bumped into some, or rather someone.

*pchit*

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!"

She felt the cleaning product being vaporized on her neck and tried to run away, but it was too late.

*pchit**pchit**pchit**pchit**pchit**pchit**pchit**pchit*

In the span of a few seconds, her whole body was assaulted by a barrage of pchits. The attacks came from everywhere, like a barrage of photos made by paparazzi. Yet contrary to a situation with true paparazzis, she couldn't just Cameron Diaz her way out of the situation.

In the end she was silent, holding her knees on the ground like a terrified kid. Her hair and clothes were totally drenched while her aggressor stood proudly, the empty bottle in her hand.

"Once more, Mr. Clean has triumphed over all stains!!!" she said, her eyes shining. "All hail Mr. Clean Lemon Scent Multi-surface cleaner!!! Da da dun!!!"

No, it wasn't just her eyes. The whole area around her was shining as if someone put a projector above her.

However, the light soon died down and the strange girl playfully twirled before running towards the door, her arms spread like a plane. 

"Now, Ajax shall take her leave! May the emulsion be with you, Miss Thompson ! Byyyeee!"

It was just like those old planes with their buzzing engines. The girl's voice sounded farther and farther away up until only the silence of the night could be heard.

"... Police."

It was May's first idea, calling the police, but she then stopped herself. For some reason, her senses were sharper than before. Not only that, but she felt better and generally lighter than usual. It was as if her body went back to when she was in highschool and in perfect physical condition. In fact, she didn't feel groggy anymore as if she slept for 12 hours but without the usual downside of the act.

"You can't be… could it be?"

At that moment, most people would have just called the police and dismissed those feelings as a side-effect of the adrenaline rush but for May, there was another explanation, something she hadn't faced for years.

"Huh, Mom?"

The voice brought May back to reality. It came from her daughter who was carefully going down the stairs.

"I heard you… scream. Is everything okay?"

"(Oh, I must have worried her)," she thought. "Y-Yeah, it was just… a cockroach. Nothing fancy."

"... Is that so? Guess I will call the police back then…"

"Oh, do please."

May then furrowed her eyebrows.

"Wait, why did you come downstairs? If you thought I was in danger, you should have stayed upstairs! What if you were attacked too?!"

"Wait, you are blaming me?" made her daughter, eyebrows raised. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright!"

"I am not blaming you," replied May. "But couldn't you think a little? What would have been the point if you were caught too?"

"There was no noises anymore, I thought—"

"Some people pretend to leave the house in order to lure the survivors in. You should—"

"Whatever, my opinion doesn't count. You just want to be right again," the girl aggressively spat before going back upstairs.

"June? June, come back here!" 

Seeing the young woman wasn't as much as slowly down, May followed up the stairs and caught her arm.

"What's with that attitude?! You think you can talk to me like that under my roof?!"

"Don't be impatient," replied June. "You just have to wait two years and will leave you, just like dad did."

She didn't think. Her hand went down, slapping her daughter before she could even process the act. When she realized what she had done, her heart was filled with regrets. Yet…

"See? You pretend to be an intellectual, but that's how you respond to arguments. No wonder Dad had enough of you."

Again, her hand raised, but her daughter's defiant gaze didn't falter.

"What are you waiting for? Here, do it again," she said, presenting her right cheek. "I don't mind honestly. Finally got tired of drowning your sorrow into some cans, did you? You need some action now. Go ahead, hit me. I won't even say anything to child protection service. Staying here is better than being sent into one of those families than won't even have blood refraining them from ditching me."

As she said that, her voice broke.

"S-See? I know… how lucky I am."

"..."

May let go of her arm and silently walked into her room. Once inside, she sat on the ground just behind the door, her head into her hands.

"What am I becoming? That's just like… just like her."

Her phone rang again from the drenched pocket of her shorts. She had just lost her part-time job.