Cold {L.T.}

chapter four

Louis

"Hopefully the cold don't come to you earlier than I expected."

These lingering words echoed through my mind. Reminding me of what is yet to come. Taunting me of the dark secrets that have been kept from me all these years.

I pondered, the meaning of those contradicting words that have been haunting me for the past nine years. I stared into the ugly eyes of reality, wondering to myself how much longer do I truly have before my existence ceases.

What ever this thing is, this abominable creature that wants me dead, I feel deep down inside that I have already encountered it.

The cold? What on earth does this mean? There is no historical evidence of such creatures. I'm not one to believe in such petty childish assumptions, there is always a logical explanation behind their outrageous theories.

I curled in the corner of my room isolating myself from vulnerable exposure, stressing over this mysterious lady that has caused me so much grief.

Those eyes.

Those faded green topaz eyes, they hold such mesmerising beauty. Those irises seemed to have carved each minuscule detail into my memory. They're the only thing I'm able to recall.

My ears perked at the obnoxious scraping of what I assume to be Mrs Donald's feet against my freshly polished floor. If that God forsaken woman leaves so much as one scuff mark, god help her.

"Mr. Tomlinson," she barked while barging through my door. "What do you suppose you are doing?" She threw her chubby arms up in frustration. "You are going to be late," she growled as she neatly arranged my daywear upon my quilt.

"Late?" My eyebrows shot up in utter confusion. "Late for what?" I scrambled up from my previous position.

"The celebration regarding your business! Where is your head, my boy?" She groaned. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I gave her a sheepish smile.

"Look at you," Maria rolled her eyes. "You're a mess, completely out of it! How could you forget about something as important as this? I have one hour to get you looking sharp and charming and let me tell you, right now you're not making my job any easier." By now her face was flushed with anger. "You're lucky you have me, I took the liberty of sewing your dress pants shorter and polishing up your shoes," she huffed. I could tell by the look on her face, that her rant was far from over.

"Maria I really think you should-"

"Don't you Maria me, now, I still have to dress my self so come here and take off your trousers," she strictly instructed.

"What? I- er I mean no! This is outrageous, you can't do this!" I tried to reason with her. When she was mad, there was no stopping her. She reached out for me but I ducked out of her grip and stepped away. "Don't struggle. It's nothing I haven't seen before," she deadpanned. Maria lunged towards and the chase began. Darting to every corner of the confined room, jumping and sprinting away from Maria and her evil intensions until we were both completely out of breath. I leaned forward in exhaustion and rubbed my sweaty palms against my knees.

Little did I know that Mrs. Donald was creeping up behind me, being ever so stealthy. While I was unsuspecting of her presence she caught me by the arm. "Oh my gosh don't do this, it's humiliating! I'm a grown man I can do it myself. Let go!" I cried, trying to save what little dignity I had left. "Make one more move and I'll announce it to everyone at the festivity that a fifty three year old dressed you," she threatened.

I was put into a deadly stare down with Mrs. Donald, we were both seething with anger, testing each other.

She tilted her head, challenging me. I glared in her direction, then I glanced at my clothed body, then back to Mrs. Donald. I sighed in defeat, hesitantly making my way towards her while tugging off my shirt. I could kiss my dignity goodbye. I prayed that she would never breath a word about this unfortunate incident.