Save a Flower (TBA)

Chapter 4: Waiting

I got back home as the sun hit the horizon.

"Rose!" It was Father. He can always tell immediately when I get in. "It's time for dinner! Your mother and I want noodles," he went from screaming at me from across the house to talking to my face.

"Any particular way?" I asked politely while keeping a calm disposition. I wouldn't want to anger Mother and Father right now.

"Nabe Yaki Udon" was his response as I started moving to the kitchen.

"Would you like it with scallops?"

"Is the sky blue?"

"It is; however, I do not see what this has to do with me making dinner for you."

"Dammit Rose! It's a figure of speech!" He punctuated 'speech' with a punch. His fist ran across my cheek, his nail removing the layer of skin. Again, it didn't hurt.

"How is it a figure of speech?" I asked, ignoring the warm blood oozing down my right cheek as he had taught me to when I was younger.

"It is an obvious question to show your question was obvious," he stated. "Stupid child," was whispered under his breath after.

"Shall I make dinner now?"

"Yes," he sighed, leaving the kitchen. I pulled the ingredients from the shelf, trying not to get blood in them. Eventually, the soup was finished and ready to serve. It was roughly 8:30.

I served Mother and Father. They had likely been waiting an upwards of two hours. While they ate, I cleaned dishes used during cooking. By the time they were finishing up, I had finished the cleaning and decided to clean the two cuts I had.

"Father, may I use the washroom?" I asked politely, in the manner that had been taught to me many times.

"Go." His mouth was full so the word sounded unfinished, but also with extra letters.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Then I understood why the wizards looked at me the way they did. I stared at my long, tangled, straight, blonde hair, then my pale, ice blue eyes, next my dirt covered face, after my filthy maid's uniform, the only article of clothing I was allowed since I was five years old, covered in patches, until finally my gaze settled on my cheeks. The right one had a vertical cut that was beginning to scab, while the left one had a horizontal cut that had become a scab yesterday.

I turned the water to a slight chill, which brother had told me was best for cleaning wounds. I scooped up some water and rubbed it on my right cheek, wincing at the sting, but it was nothing to get worked up about.

I determined that I should clean the cut on my left cheek but to do that I would need to reopen the cut.

I stared at it in the mirror to make sure I wouldn't miss. I brought my hand up; unsure whether my nails would be long enough to open it. I rested my nails on my cheek, slightly above the cut. Before I could change my mind, I brought my hand down quickly, taking the scab with it. I brushed it into the sink with running water to get it down the drain. I repeated what I did on my right cheek, which fully had a full scab now.

I left the wash room. Mother and Father had left the table and their bowls were empty. I cleaned them and put them away. Now it was 9:30. I started my evening routine. I the full moon gently glowing over the tops of the trees swaying softly in the breeze through the large windows in the main room while washing them. I stopped to stare for a while. It was so peaceful and beautiful that I had lost myself. I finally snapped out of it when I heard a knock at the door.

10:00.

The time has come.