Lie to Me

Chapter Seven:

Hey guys, so i know its obvioulsy been a while...but i wanted to thank some of you for the votes and comments.  i came back to only see how this story was doing and then i saw the comments for it.  ik there were only three comments, but, they really did inspire me to keep going! so lately ive been busy with art and college plans, but im going to atleast try and upload a new chapter every weekend! so bear with me and once again, thx!:) 

PS- there were a few minor adjustments to chapter five, the ewell family. so you may want to skim through it just incase!!     

-paint5066   

            The next morning, Roselyn woke to a startling headache. “Ms. Roselyn, are you feeling well?” Charlotte questioned. “Just a strange migraine, Charlotte.” She replied, sitting up gingerly. “Perhaps it’s from lack of sleep.” Charlotte said sharply. “You mustn’t tell anyone.” Roselyn ordered, although it resembled more of a plead. “It isn’t mine to tell, Ms. Roselyn,” Charlotte mumbled, “perhaps a cup of tea will help?” “Yes, please.” Roselyn said back to her maid. Releasing a yawn, Roselyn stood, and peered out of her window. Frost covered her windowpanes, and there seemed to be a light snowfall over the small village. As always, her thoughts fell on her beloved sister, who simply adored the snow. When they were both young, their father would take them for a walk every year in the first snowfall of the cold season. She remembered, as they grew older, both Roselyn and their father grew tired of this tradition. However, Mary Margaret would still make Roselyn walk with her every first snowfall up until their last year together. Roselyn felt a burst of anger wash over her once she felt the hot torrents of grief fall down her face. By the time Charlotte came back with her cup of tea, Roselyn was an utter mess. Without saying a word Charlotte set the tea down on the bedside table and started patting Roselyn’s back. “I’m so tired.” Roselyn heaved. “Well I told you, Ms. Rose-” “No,” Roselyn interrupted, “I’m so tired of knowing that she’s gone. There’s nothing that does not remind me of her.” Roselyn cried.

               Roselyn was not quite sure how she’d done it, but she had gotten out of the house and was walking the village streets without an escort. She did not care who could see her and certainly did not care about her family’s reputation. She quickened her pace and must have looked like she had gone mad. Snow was still falling, at the same slow pace. She breathed warm air into her freezing hands. How foolish of her it was to not dress warmer in this frigid season. She simply had too much on her mind at the moment to worry about what she was dressed in. “Rose-Ms. Ewell?” She heard a familiar voice correct himself. Roselyn felt she could not speak, tears already blurred her vision, so she simply stopped in her tracks. “Ms. Ewell? Where is Charlotte? Ms. Ewell?” Jacob called. Roselyn turned to him and opened her mouth, but no words came out. Jacobs was transformed from his usual lofty look to a look of concern. Not concerned of anyone watching, he stepped closer to her. “Roselyn, what is it? Please tell me.” Jacob said softly. When Roselyn shook her head and started to shake, Jacob guided her to the forest, where they were just a few hours ago.

               Once they were far enough away from the villagers, he took her hands, “Now, please tell me what’s wrong.” And then, perhaps because he was holding her hands, she told him all of it, quite easily she poured out her sorrows to him. She told him how deeply she missed her sister, how strange her brother and father have been acting ever since her death, and how her mother has been locking herself in her room everyday except for meals since her daughter’s passing. And how she still hasn’t recovered, not nearly, for it seemed she couldn’t stop herself from crying.

             Jacob stayed silent; he spent quit some time scrambling through pockets for a handkerchief that was clearly not there. So instead, he took one of his gloved hands and slowly wiped the tears off her face. Once he was finished, he took her hands once more, “I should not have treated you the way I did the last time we were here.” It was the last thing Roselyn expected Jacob to say after everything she had just told him. “I am deeply sorry for how upset you are,” he continued, “and I wish there were more I could do for you. But I am afraid I am a very useless sort and even more so at comforting people.” He sighed. “Jacob Covington, you’re not nearly as bad as think you are at comforting someone.” Roselyn sniffled. “Ms. Ewell, was that a compliment?” Jacob gasped dramatically. At that, she smiled, and almost laughed. “You are not nearly as witty as you think you are either.” Roselyn grinned. At this, Jacob carefully gave her back her hands, as if they were the most delicate things he’s ever held. “Come, you should be home. Leaving without an escort,” Jacob tsked, “I’m afraid I may have rubbed off on you.”