An Innocent Mistake (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 26

I take Martha upstairs to my room. I witness another terror that grows fierce in her eyes. She strangely stares around the room like what kind of place is this. Can she trust me for where I brought her.
While I use the bathroom and come back out, she sitting on the verge of bed. Her hands nervously clasp on the mattress.
She looks at me when I walk past her to put my sandals under the bed.
"Is your....the one downstairs mad at me? Does she even like me?" Martha asks. She stands up having the same height as me and assume the age is same too.
"You don't have to be afraid of her. Just think I am here for you when you are in trouble."
"Is she that bad?"
I put my hand on her shoulder and look deep into her eyes to ground the message in her mind and heart. "Believe me. I will not let anyone hurt you. She will not even touch you." Taking a breath I take my hand off her shoulder.
She is dazed in her thoughts. I see a soft agreement in her nod. She draws a distance between us and sits back on the bed.
"I haven't eat anything all day. My aunt keeps me hungry and make me do work all the time. So-" Shyness seeps into her lips and they purse back forming a sleek, slim shape. She drops her gaze to the floor as if prowling for a way to somehow complete the sentence she has left incomplete. "So I need something to eat." Her voice trails off like she is ashamed of what she had said.
"Sure. Why not."
I make to the door and beckone her to come after me. I tell Martha to sit at the table so I go look for something to eat, but on the way I collide with Ragenite. She is still stained with the consistent grudge. Her look overwhelms me.
I notice the bowl in her hand, tendrils of heat curling in the air.
"This is for Martha?" I ask.
"She doesn't belong here so why should I give it to her. I have made it for you." She puts forth the bowl for me to take it. But I don't."
"I have already eaten in the party. Maybe you can give it to Martha. She is starving."
Ragenite goes in the kitchen and rebells by putting the bowl on the counter, and leaves. I make a move when she is not there and take the bowl to Martha, placing it in front of her in a warming manner.
"There is nothing much." I say.
"It's fine." She begins eating as soon as possible. Though it is hot, but she doesn't mind consuming the porridge with the burning spoon.
"You seem like really hungry."
Martha doesn't stop to comment on my statement. I quietly watch her until she is done.
As I am about to voice out my thoughts, Ragenite calls me, making me jerk in the chair.
"Will you meet me in the kitchen?" She says and herself wanders to the kitchen first.
"I will be back in a second." I tell Martha, so she doesn't get worried.
When I go, I see Ragenite waiting by the counter. She retrieves her focus on me as she catches a glimpse of me from her shoulder. I witness the displeasure in her attitude before she bursts to speak to me.
She steps forward and I muster the courage in my muscles. Her sharp-witted eyeballs are ceaselessly watching me ignoring even the slightest disturbance in the air. Most of it that transcends fear in my body, is her face. It displays very evilness in her features.
"Why did you call me?" I say.
"How long is she living here?" The words she chose, deserve to be scorned out loud. But her volume of voice surprises me.
"As long as I want her to."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I haven't said anything that you don't understand."
She deepens her gaze over me. "But she isn't living here for longer. Do you know how we are living. We barely have enough money to provide ourselves. How are you going to provide her?"
"I earn the money not you. I can do whatever I want. You can't interfere in what I want." I admonish, being louder than ordinary.
She picks her hand and swings it on my face. I nearly fall in tremendous shame, for being slapped.
I tensely look back at her from the thrown position and don't believe in what she has done. I feel myself drowning down from the insult she bangs on me.
My cheek feel like it is roasted on the stove, fuming the heat against my palm.
"Next time lower your voice talking to me. Don't forget your manners, you stupid girl. " She rages and deserts me solitude. I drop to my knees, holding on to my cheek. I barely accept the moment that took place.
How can she do that to me?
How will I face Martha with this ashamed face?
I drop the tears from my welled eyes. But I try to suck them back. I can't show my red eyes to Martha, and answer all her questions. She is already scared from the initial meeting with Ragenite. If I tell her what happened, she might get us in worse trouble. I rise back on my feet and turn on the faucet of the basin and splash water on my scorching face. The first touch of water cools the tension, bounded to my veins.
I keep myself in contact with the cold water until a relief sweeps off the pain. I run my hand over the wet face, flushing the hanging drops off the skin.
Then I turn off the faucet and stable my condition. I wish that I would never have to go to Martha who anticipates me at the table.
Can I even look up to her and hide red mark on my face?
I am losing strength. How can I tell that whatever happens to her aunt's house, that similar attitude possesses this house too.
At last, I show myself to Martha crawling out at first, but throwing forth at the last step, I see Martha laying her head down on the table, presumably exhausted. I wonder is she was gone to sleep.
"Martha?" I say it so low that I doubt if she has even heard me at all. "Martha?"
She suddenly bolts up her head and looks at me curiously.
"Were you sleeping?"
"No. I mean- kind of. But I am awake now."
Her voice is so soothing that I feel the warmth of real blanket. She seems very ingenuous that I would want to embrace her like my sister. Probably like younger sister.
"We can go up. There you can sleep." I smile at her.
She comes along with me upstairs and I slap the door but don't lock it.
"I know it's been a long day. I just want to sleep too."
I go and once again splash water on my face. When I come out, I realize that Martha might need something comfortable to wear. But I wonder if she would prefer to wear my clothes.
"Do you wanna change. I have another pair of clothes."
"No, it's alright. I like what I am wearing." While she talks, she eagerly tours her eyes around the room.
"Why is your room so empty? Do you even live here?"
"I live here, but it's not my house. I was brought over by Ragenite."
"Who is that? And what kind of word is that?" She inquires.
I fix the bed and plan on how we are going to sleep. There was only one pillow and there is nothing beside the bed mattress.
But for a while I abandon the nipping thought and settle on the bed.
"Ragenite her full name is Ragenite Alice. She is the one who you met downstairs. Don't you recognize the name as something evil?" I wonder.
She enunciates the name and makes a face like she tasted something bitter, that left the savor on her tongue. "I wonder if it even has a good meaning to it."
I giggle and then take it under the consideration.
"You know how I ended up here? "I slide my back on the prop pillow and fold my arms over my body. "It's a long story."
"Tell me how?"
I tell her the story. She has the most concentrated pair of eyes on me and on how I tell the each event. When I stop to catch a breath, she says, "Then?" So she doesn't lose her interest.
Then I continue on. "Then I started feeling lonely. I didn't like anything. I gave less care to what was around me. I only felt friendly with my doll Tessie. So one day I planned to run away from this house and from faraway I met Ragenite. She brought me here. I do babysitting and make up the living with the money I earn."
I am deeply tangled in my thoughts.
"You do work? Wow. That is too much work to make money and run the house."
I dig in my bag for Tessie but instead find the sketch book squeezed between the pressure of copious clothes. I tug the book out and show few of my sketches to Martha.
"Wow. Those are so pretty." She explodes with reaction. "You are an amazing artist." She compliments even more, looking forward to other sketches. "How did you learn this? I wish I knew how to draw. But I barely know how to write." Her mood swings low.
"I do what I love to do."
She passes the sketch to me and I take a glimpse of my few sketches and put it back in the bag.
"My aunt never let me go to school. But my cousin was nice enough to teach me what she learned in school. Not a lot but little. She was afraid if her mother would know about it."
I deeply look at the door knob, haphazardly, lost as Martha is talking. She shakes me softly from my thoughts and I gain my attention back to her.
"Are you listening?" She wonders, seeking the answer in my expression.
"Yes. Yes I was. I was just thinking that I shouldn't have left my home my parents. They were most precious to me. I made a big mistake."
"If I had my parents alive I would have never left them."
When she says the word, 'alive' it most scares me. It feels terrible enough to be away from them-but not being alive tears apart the hope that you would ever meet them.
"I am really sorry, Martha. I realize what I have done. It was not a good idea. In fact it was worst."
I slacken on my spine, evoking the feeling of laying my head on the pillow, but I am afraid if I fall asleep, taking up Martha's space. I move to one side of the bed and allow Martha to sleep on the smooth sprawled bed. Sheet white as snow.
Talking brings us to close our eyes. I escape from the weariness by kindly pulling the pillow under the neck while being careful about Martha.
🍁

I feel the vibration in the bed, as if something was under the mattress. I move, in the heavy sleep interpreting the distorting sound in silence.
I sit up and rub my eyes. Just then I hear another noise. Cackles and the weeping sound. Both sounds were so opposite that it was hard to distinguish the reality.
What is going? I think, my eyes dipped in slumber.
After some while it got quiet, and I go back to dropping my head on the pillow but realize that Martha has snatched it to her side. I slightly pull it back under my head and drone to sleep.
I suddenly jerk back and look about. My eyes are wide open, hunting down the source of movement. But nothing specific comes in my view. Everywhere was blackness, that I barely can see what is beyond the tailboard of the bed.
Next to me I hear Martha softly snoring, like she would not wake up until after two days. When we were talking I could already see the exhaustion blowing yawns, and her eyes leaking in the deprivation of sleep.
I bound to have forget the cackles of Ragenite. She nearly has lost her routine in past couple months, but I wonder what went wrong today. Did the evil spirit come back and she is possessed?
As I am about to close my eyes for the third time, my heart jumps out of my chest.
A thunderous laughter roars in the house, and I am more afraid than before. Then Martha hugs out of her deep sleep and wanders her eyes reacting to the loud noise.
"What is it, Bethany?" She asks in uncertainty. "Are you okay." I sense her heart beat measuring up to each word as they pop.
"I am fine." I say.
"Then what is that noise?"
She panics as the laughter breaks the whole place.
"I am afraid it's Ragenite again. She does that in the night." I constantly stare in the dark, being alerted of every moment. Now I have Martha with me to who I have to protect. I don't want it to have a bad impact on her.
"Is she gonna kill us?" Martha cries, shuddering.
"No, she can't do anything to you. Don't get scared. She will stop after some while." I put my hand on her shoulder to give her comfort. "She will not do anything."
At first the discomfort grapples her, not letting her relax. But as I persistently make her realize that I am by her side, she accepts the relief.
"Why does she do that?"
Unexpectedly I have no answer. My lips seal the words from coming out. I know the truth isn't as easy to believe just like it wasn't for me.