Velvet Walls

Chap.13, Back and Forth

It's mid-October now. After the night of Mario-kart, things have pretty much gone back to normal between me and Donivan. For him, at least. I don't get how it's so easy for him to pretend that nothing happened. I mean, technically, nothing did. But things are obviously different now, and I don't get how he can still act so unbothered. It's easier for me to pretend that he has no effect on me, being that this is technically a professional setting. If it were any other circumstance, I probably wouldn't be able to look him in the eye again. It leaves me to wonder. How many girls has he done that to before? How many people has he been so tender with? For me, he's the first. The first to be so gentle with me like that. I've been trying yet failing to force myself to stop reading into it. Who knows, maybe he has no idea what he's doing. Although the realistic part of me says that he absolutely does.

It's another rainy day. I'm helping Mir with his division while trying not to fall asleep to the sound of raindrops on the window. I decided to have the kids sit in the fancy living room today for a change of scenery.

After a few hours of trying not to nod off just sitting there, Delia, who's been occasionally walking back and forth cleaning, takes notice.

"Why don't you take a break today, Viola? You deserve it."

"Are you sure?" I don't want her to think that I don't enjoy my job.

"Yes, honey. I'm not busy. I'll watch them."

I nod, "Thank you so much."

She waves her hand as if to wave away my guilt, as if the very notion of me not needing a break is silly.
"Go rest."

The way she says it makes it sound more like instruction than permission, but I don't protest.

I lay my head down on my pillow. The only light in my room is the soft gray-blue glow pouring in through the window. Suddenly, I'm hit with an overwhelming sensation of grief. Like a wave of longing washing over me. Longing for what, exactly, I'm not sure. I just know it's a deep, guttural feeling clawing its way down my chest into my stomach, digging a pit there, and making me feel empty from the inside out. It's a feeling I can't quite place. All I know is that in this moment I would do anything to make it go away. A tear soaks my pillow. I don't even know what I'm crying about, really. I miss my mom. It's not the usual homesickness though. If I wanted her, I could always call her. But I don't think that's it. I'm homesick for a place that no longer exists. For a life that no longer exists. That's when it clicks.

I remember my mom tucking me into her chest. She faced me towards the window so I could watch the rain fall as she played with my hair until I fell asleep. The house is completely silent except for my mom and I's breaths, and the rain. Aside from the occasionally sound of my mom's humming.

I let out a sob. Who knows how many nights we fell asleep like that. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to sleep. Trying to forget the fact that I can never go back.

I wake up in my childhood home. Or at least I think it is...? It's strangely familiar, yet something about it is so off. It's huge. Endless. It feels as if the Dervishi mansion and my house have combined to create some sort of vast nostalgic monstrosity. It's unnervingly quiet. Yet it feels like I have eyes on me. I walk around in exploration. I walk down a strangely lit hallway. Lights are on, yet it just feels dark. I realize there's no natural light at all. I find a staircase and head up it. I keep imagining shadows darting from the corner of my eyes.

"Psst..come here!" A child's soft voice hisses from inside of a room.

I enter and find a little girl peeking around the door. At first, I can't recognize her. I realize it's me...but it also isn't. I know what I'm looking at is a younger version of myself, but it's like we're two completely different people. Like I'm not myself. Like this girl is a stranger. She tugs me into the room.