Peintures vivantes - Joseph Descamps

Descamps ou Joseph?

the final confrontation has finally arrived!!!💜💜

enjoy the reading💜

-------------------------

As soon as I decide to go and clarify with Joseph once and for all, I look out of the window: I notice that it has started snowing. A feeling of happiness and enthusiasm wells up inside me, but shortly afterwards it all dies down. I am afraid of what I might get up to by going to him to clarify.

I move from my father's office to my room and slowly open the wardrobe. As I'm rummaging through my clothes to find something heavy to wear, I hear the door to my room creak. "What are you up to?"

I turn around and see Marion with a worried look on her face. "I'm going for a walk," I lie to her. Wrong thing to do: lying to Marion is as impossible as lying to my mother. Marion, hugging herself in her pyjamas, slides in next to me, sitting at the foot of my bed, as is her wont.

"I hate it when you lie to me you know, Romy?"

Exasperated and very mentally rehearsed, I rest my forehead on the second shelf of my wardrobe and close my eyes. "I understand you...and I support you." She says softly, punching me lightly in the side.

I turn to look at her: Marion has always been much prettier than me. She is quite tall and thin, with a wasp waist, hair as black as night and eyes as blue as a frozen lake. She got her mother's nose. She has always been admired by all the boys she casually meets around the house; me on the other hand...I'm the invisible sister.

Marion gets up and offers me her arms, opening them. I sink into a long embrace; I feel the warmth of brotherly love my sister and I have always had. "I'll lend you my lucky scarf." She exclaims, disappearing behind my door, to return moments later with the yellow wool scarf in her hands.

"Why do you say it's good luck?"

Marion looks at the scarf and smiles as she wraps it around my neck. "I wore it once, and I got a good grade in Latin." She replies, chuckling.

I roll my eyes; how funny my sister is, after all. "I need to distract Mum. You go out the door to the kitchen. I'll tell her you're in your room studying and don't want to be disturbed." She winks at me, and after placing a kiss on my cheek, runs downstairs, where our mother is reading her book.

--------------------

As soon as I leave the house, I feel the icy wave penetrate my hair. For a moment, I shiver from the cold and tighten the yellow scarf around my neck. I certainly don't want to get sick; in five days it is Christmas, and I want to celebrate it healthy, certainly not sick.

I walk the road from my house to Joseph's with alternating steps. At times I walk fast, to withstand the cold, at times I walk slowly, because I am afraid of arriving at his door. When I reach the park, I look at the bench where I saw Jean Pierre and Simone last week.

I envy them: I envy their happiness, I envy their carefreeness...perhaps I also envy their genuine and serene love.

The door of Joseph's house appears before my nose unexpectedly, and I take a few steps back. Compared to the other times, it seems much more threatening. Maybe I am doing the wrong thing.

I turn my back and take a few steps towards my house. I stand still and watch the pink sunset, and my hot breath creates a thick cloud of steam in front of my eyes.

I go back, and without thinking, I ring the bell. Oh, God! Now I can't run away and come back. I'm so stupid! I will surely regret it. The door opens slowly, and Joseph's mother emerges from behind; she has curlers in her hair and a net to hold her hair in place. As soon as she sees me she widens her eyes.