"I try and see who's there on the other end of the shade
Most times it's just somebody that's under-aged
That's probably just alone and afraid
And lashin' out so that someone else can feel they pain--" Drake, Emotionless.
Chikamharida's POV.
Six days later.
"If you don't get ready for church, I'd drag you there myself, anyhow you dress," a voice said, and it leaked through the crack in the door. I was at a distance from said room, although I was gradually approaching it, footsteps soft on the floor but still, the voice could drown a megaphone. It was slightly masculine and made anyone at the receiving end of it want to cower in fear, including me.
A softer voice followed it, no doubt belonging to a child or an employee. They were arguing, and the woman never lowered her voice for the child, even once.
Before I arrived the door, a girl, almost to my height, rushed out, bumping into me in me process and not apologizing. From her jean and t-shirt, she was a teenager no doubt and the fact that she had her face lowered as she rushed away made me remember Henry's words when I'd first arrived:
"No matter what happens, don't ask questions," he'd said.
The door was slightly open but I still knocked, just to hear a reply.
"Come in," she said.
Tentatively I walked in, closing the door slightly so I had a nice view of the person rumored to have summoned me. So it was her! The "commander" of the house who hadn't even spent twenty four hours in her proposed visit.
This was my first time seeing her; inarguable since I was a green employee.
"You called for me ma," I said once I was before her.
I couldn't study the room directly but I did through my peripheral. It appeared almost empty save for some potted plant, more ceramics and the two people who were currently occupying it— one being me.
Such potent aura she had!
She sent me a look of appraisal; saggy face, skin bleached with sunburn at the side, paired with down turned wide lips and a pair of stern brown eyes. From my feet to my to the grey matter in my brain she assessed.
"And who are you?" Same voice asked, except this time, it was less polite, that's if possible. She was probably thinking I was a virus.
"I'm the security, ma," I said and was met with more disapproval.
"So you're the one," she'd said, voice rasing again.
"What happened ma?"
"I just came yesterday, to see my son and his family, and this is how you welcome me? By breaking into my room and taking my pot? Bolaji must hear of this!"
I stood, a rod of steel. The words spewing off her mouth like a billion pound processing plant on rubris. What was she saying?
"Ma'am, you're slightly mistaken," I said. "I don't know what you're talking about." My hands found themselves on my heart as I swore. "I've been at the gate all day long. Not even trespassing as I was told. Ma'am I swear, I don't know what you're talking about!"
A thickened silence elapsed, then her willowy eyes focused on me. "So I'm lying? You're calling me a liar!"
"I- I didn't."
"Can you defend yourself because you're definitely displaying a lot of skills right now?"
"I-"
She raised a palm at me. "Wait till my son is back to explain the lies you've probably cooked up. I'm not going to listen to that."
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Mists
General Fiction«Even with all the dust, the flower still outshined the sun» ~~~~ Meet Harida Bick, the product of an unwanted relationship and also Adele Jones, a teenager in another country subjected to same design. When both girls began living together through...
