Story: Biometrics don't lie. Part 4.

 by Melissa

Part 4. My first day working as a school maid

As the first rays of dawn crept through the narrow window of my room in the maid's quarters, I was jolted awake by a sharp knock on the door. "Melissa Jones!" a stern voice called out, its urgency breaking the stillness of the early morning. Rising groggily from my makeshift bed, I realized I had slept in the uncomfortable maid's uniform I had been given by the receptionist. I hurried to the door, my mind still fuzzy from sleep. Standing before me was a tall and imposing woman with a stern expression. She was dressed in a traditional maid's uniform of black dress and white apron. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she had a clipboard in her hand. 

"Girl, I am Mrs. Henderson, the head maid, and you're late for your morning cleaning duties," she barked, her voice echoing in the small room. "Get down to the common area immediately." 

My heart sank. I had hoped that the confusion of the previous day would be resolved overnight, but it was clear that my predicament was far from over. I tried to explain my situation. "Ma'am," I began, my voice trembling slightly, "I am not a school maid. My name is indeed Melissa Jones, but I am a student who arrived yesterday." 

Mrs. Henderson raised an eyebrow, her expression sceptical. "A student?" she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. "Dressed like that?", she said looking at my maid's uniform. "Besides," the head maid added, "that's impossible. According to our records, you are the delinquent school maid who is currently serving community service." 

I tried to protest, starting to explain the theft of my the train ticket, the missed car and the circumstances of my registration in the biometrics system, but Mrs. Henderson remained unconvinced. As I insisted, she marched over to the fingerprinting device and placed my hand on the scanner. The device beeped, confirming my identity as the delinquent school maid. The head maid's lips curled into a smug smile, her disbelief now replaced by a sense of triumph. "See?" she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Biometrics don't lie. Your fingerprints match the records. You're Melissa Jones, the delinquent school maid, and that's all there is to it." 

Story: Biometrics don't lie. Part 3.

by Melissa 

Part 3. My arrival at the school 

As the rain poured down relentlessly, drenching me to the bone, I stood before the imposing gates of Elmwood Academy, my heart pounding in my chest. The journey had been a series of unfortunate events, from the theft of my first-class ticket to the loss of my luggage and the missed car. Now, I found myself shivering and soaked in front of the intercom, on a Sunday evening, hoping that someone would hear my plea for help. I pressed the button, my finger trembling slightly. "Hello?" I called out, my voice laced with desperation. "Is anyone there?" The silence that followed was deafening, a harsh contrast to the relentless drumming of the rain on the pavement. 

A surge of panic threatened to overwhelm me as I pressed the button again, my voice trembling as I uttered my name and asked for assistance. Still, no answer came. I was soaked to the bone, my clothes clinging to my shivering form as the wind whipped through my hair. The rain seemed to mock my predicament, a relentless reminder of my isolation and vulnerability. Just when I was about to give up hope, a woman's voice crackled through the intercom, startling me out of my despair. "Hello?" the woman asked, slightly muffled "This is the receptionist." 

"Thank goodness," I exclaimed, relief washing over me. "I'm Melissa Jones, the new student. I was supposed to be picked up by a car from the school, but I missed it. Could you please let me inside?" 

"Melissa Jones you say," the receptionist replied. "Just wait for a minute, I will check the database."