Kingdom of isolation - you can't hide

Fifty One ~ Aurora

Aurora

The sweet smell of cocoa wafts through the kitchen, calling out my name. Every now and then, I take a tour around the prison—mansion—just to ground myself with the reality. When I'm tired of being cooped up in the library, I always end up in the kitchen with Aunt Isabella, getting in her way for the most part. She doesn't seem to mind me lurking around like a creeper. If anything, I think she pities me and lets me be.

She's also a wonderful baker, I'm surprised Uncle Eli hasn't turned into a diabetic. You cannot resist that woman's cooking, and her baking is just divine. I never knew hot chocolate could taste so heavenly, the way she makes it really thick and creamy—heaven.

"Can I get those little marshmallows for my hot choco?" I ask, taking a seat on the island table.

Reading is therapeutic, but my stomach always has to be a little bitch and demand food. Good thing Aunt Bella's prepared everything I could possibly want.

"'Course you can, honey." She beams, dumping a truckload of pink and white marshmallows. Not that I mind, the more the merrier.

This is how it's been for a while now. My purpose in life has been reduced to wandering the halls of this hell and finding light existing in places you'd least expect. I should be grateful for the absence of my jailer, but, I'm not.

Paranoia. It's a feeling I'm most familiar with. For a good chunk of my life, I've lived through it. Never get too comfortable anywhere, because you never know when the rug will be pulled from beneath your feet. I can't get too comfortable whenever he's not here, which is most of the time—in fact, I haven't seen his face in a while. Regardless, I know better than to get comfortable, he'll appear out of nowhere and I'll be left scrambling for my sanity.

Marshmallows happily swimming, I sip from my mug, the hot liquid warming me up instantly. I turn to find Aunt Bella staring at me with a smile, one I return sheepishly. She tucks a few pieces of my hair behind my ear and I instinctively lean into her motherly touch.

"The weather's looking better today. Shall we go for a walk?"

Another constant in my life, being asked to stop being a recluse and get some fresh air. I shake my head, just like I've done the previous nine times she's asked me.

"I don't feel like going anywhere; still too cold." I tell her truthfully. It's still January and the air is out to bite me.

"How about a shopping trip? This place could do with some changes."

A prison is a prison. "I'm good." I mumble. The sugar rush helps with my paranoia for a while. But the feeling of being watched never goes away.

"Shall we go visit Thena?"

A thrumming in my chest hearing my mamma's name, I must look like a puppy being asked to go for a walk. But, I resist. "It's okay, I'll go some other day."

I can hear the disappointment in her sigh; I'm disappointed myself.

"Honey, we need to talk about this."

I don't want to talk about it.

"There's nothing to talk about."

I gulp the hot drink until it burns my lungs, choosing to torture myself than have to talk about that night.

"Slow down or you'll burn your mouth!" She tells me.

"Okay." I whisper, gulping another mouthful. Frikkin hot!

She grabs my hands then, gently prying the mug away from me as she sits down on the stool in front. Her hands are soft and warm against mine, eyes a mossy forest that hide so much. Isabella Stone is soft hearted, but there's a lot more to her than meets the eye.