Isabelle

Loss ii

She was done, done with her usual painting. Every painting she made of recent were ones that portrayed  heart ache, sadness and loneliness. The paintress seemed to emphasize more on dark colors as she was recreating one of Leonardo Da Vinci's  famous paintings.

She was still recovering from the incident . Wounds they say heal, Isabelle wasn't sure if the same would apply to her. The wound was still fresh, and the memories of her mother that lingered everywhere only rubbed salt to an open wound.

The Thursday clear sky emitted the morning sun rays which reflected in the room. She laid down the sable brushes and pallet on the small stool beside the tripod which held canvas. 

With a sigh, her eyes looked up to the sky and the ray of sun light.

"A silver lining they say, more like silver bullshit."  As soon as those words left her mouth, she remembered her mother's scolding.

 Responding to herself she said;

 "Bad word, correct yourself Isabelle." 

She paused and continued,

"more like silver nonsense. that's better".

Orlando, the middle aged butler walked into the Art studio. Not surprised at the paintings that stood before him, he knew Isabelle quite well and painting is one of her talents. Since she was a little girl, she would gift him a portrait of himself every year on his birthday. 

 Looking at him, one couldn't tell if he was happy or sad, he held a neutral demeanor. Looking at the child that just lost her mother, the terms he could use to spell out what he felt for her could be described as 'understanding'. He did know what it felt like to loose a parent, but when he lost his , he had reached the stage and age where he learnt to accept things the way they were. He was a fully grown man by then. 

"Your breakfast is ready Miss". He said with his French accent, waited for a reaction from her which he got and he exited the room.

As she made her way down the stairs, she still could find it hard to believe , she was an only child. No siblings, she sometimes wondered why.

 
" Mama would've given birth to another one but no, she didn't want another child " She muttered under her breath.

A silent breakfast, Something she is still learning to get used to. No mother to scold her when she talks with her mouth full or drum with spoon on the table or  make unnecessary toasts or doesn't finish her food.  Her mother was against food wastage.

One time when she was served boiled eggplants and tea, she hated the whole idea of having that for breakfast. her initial intentions were to ditch the food and get a snack from the fridge. Her mother couldn't, wouldn't let that happen.

"You either eat that food now or you'll be served with that same food everyday for a week" Her mother said.

" Everyday for a week? I could die, don't you love me mama? you want me to die eating that food. Do you even call this food?" Isabelle looked at the food that almost made her throw up.

"Well there are lots of people out there who don't have a roof over their head now talk even less of food. but you have both and more so eat em, finish it all." Being a mother meant she had the upper hand and the kid have no choice than to listen.

"Didn't put them in that situation did I?"

"Isabelle! " Mrs. Noel who happened to over hear the conversation going on between mother and child had to interfere. 

"Be grateful that you are not in that situation, those people there didn't want that situation but they found themselves in it. Now child, eat your food" . Mrs. Noel spoke softly.