You Can Paint Me

Chapter 23

I'm not a bad person. I didn't do anything wrong, I just told him to leave, right? It's not a big deal.

Yeah, I'm not a bad person.

I mentally nodded my head, thinking that I did nothing wrong and I shouldn't feel guilty about these puppy doe eyes, that were looking at me with sparks of hope and all. I turned my heels and got a grip of the doorknob of my bedroom door again, slowly taking a step in.

But the moment I made a move to fully enter my bedroom, a frustrated groan escaped my lips and I rolled my eyes. I let loose of the handle and turned to the opposite direction, inaudibly tiptoe-ing to the corridor, as if I was an undercover spy.

I followed the tracks that the downhearted boy walked onto, some moments ago and I sucked in my breath, making sure that no one would find me guilty of  espionage against the dialogue my mom kept with him.
I made sure to safely hide my figure behind the wall, but also be able to eavesdrop at ease.

The things I do in my own house...

"Goodbye Ms Claire, it was really nice meeting you.", his voice cheerful, but I could feel that he was forcing his smile.

"Won't you stay for dinner?", I can imagine her shock. My mom never allows someone to leave her house, unless they've had something to eat.

"No, I won't, but thank yo-"

"Nonsense! No one steps a foot outside my house with an empty stomach.", she stated firmly. My mom would literally force you to eat, even if you were full and can't take a bite more.
"Besides, I want to get to know you more."

"I doubt your daughter would like that, though. So, I'll take my leave and I hope you enjoy your chocolates. Have a goodnight.", he declined politely, his voice dropping slightly in dissapointment.

Okay, I may or may not have felt guilty about him being so...sad?
It was as if he had failed to accomplish something that he wanted so much. Maybe he indeed failed, but I happen to be the cause of this... So, yeah okay, you can say that I feel a tiny bit guilty. Just a tiny bit.

The next thing I heard coming from the kitchen, was heavy footsteps, slowly fading in the distance, until the front door opened and closed with a soft bang.

I closed my eyes and let the breath I was holding all along to escape my lips. I stood there for a split second, before the sound of my mom's menacing voice echoed through the whole house.

"Olivia Beatrice Elsher!", she shouted, with a tone that screamed 'it's time you died'.
My hands started to sweat from fear and I could feel my face going pale. Whenever she calls me by my full name, means that she's up to no good.

What do I do now? Should I run? Should I just let her call my name -nope, things will get worse-
Do I play it sick, in hopes that she will let me of the hook for whatever reason she was yelling at me?

Fork, there's no other way.

"Y-yes, mom?", I slowly revealed myself, taking slow and steady steps away from my hiding place.
I kept a good five-meter distance between the infuriated beast infront of me. I ain't risking my life for this.

"What did you do to that poor kid?", she pointed at the door. She frustratedly bushed a hand through her hair and exhaled deeply.
"I have one child and yet, I still failed to raise her properly to have good manners! What did you do to him? He was like a lost, unfed puppy earlier!", she gasped, totally dissapointed by my rude behavior.

I stood confident in my feet and raised my head. "I did nothing.", I lied, claiming something that I knew I was wrong about.

My mom's eyes were piercing my soul, reading my every expression like an open book.
"Olivia, tell me what you did to him...", she trailed off threateningly slow, her voice dropping an octave down.