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Chapter 30: His Declaration

It's been three full days that I was just staring at the painting tools they bought me. I mean, I don't know what to do about it.

I glanced out on the bathroom inside the room they have allowed to me. Wearing a single white, printed shirt, black jeggings and a pair of white trainers. I still have the towel folded on my hair.

I found her, near on the bedside table. She seems of searching something. Hmm? Maybe Trisha's things?

She cut what she's doing, when she found me staring at her. My face asks questions.

"Are you ready for school?" she returns, asking. Smile can't be hidden on her face.

I smiled as well, and that seems to help in filling on her query.

I directed myself on the bed and fix the bag I'm using for the day. It's been the first day of classes. And I am excited yet nervous altogether. I don't know how to make friends anymore. I really don't know if I can do it well, without talking at all. I just can't feel the urge to talk to even if I already can.

"Riley?" I switched my focus on her. Seems like my stare put up a bit pressure on her. I wonder how my stare look at.

Then she decided to continue talking. "Haven't you made a painting? I mean, haven't you used your new tools? 'Cause if there would be any defect, we can return it back, and change with better ones."

I didn't make any reaction for a while.

Are they really craving to see my works?! I didn't even allowed them to buy those tools, it's just them who made the control. Well, I can give it back if they want. Though I'm wanting to paint, but I can refuse to.

She waited for my answer. I just shook my head.

I'll paint if I'm enough ready. If I'm already good at it.

"Okay." back to her cheerful tone. "I'll prepare your sandwiches. We'll wait for you outside, then." That's when she's gone as rapid as I can think.

Really weird how they were acting so different and scared with me? I mean, what's wrong? I'm no longer talking. There's no need to be so... fearful. Especially with someone like me. An orphan.

-

"The schedule says this will be your room for the subject at this hour." he announced as he examine the room number and the white carbon paper where my schedule is written.

I try not to give him the paper at all, but he insisted. I just don't see the need then. I can find my own room. I just don't speak but I can still see.