Frames

Chapter 4.

It was nearly half-past three. The afternoon sun was streaming through the bedroom curtains as Jessica sat on her bed, reading. She enjoyed the book. It was extremely out-dated, written around the mid-nineteenth century, and looked about that old, too. It was very fragile, with yellowed pages and the spine cracked. Taren had suggested it, but Jessica didn't think that she had actually meant for her to read it, for Taren kept popping her head into the room every so often to make sure Jessica wasn't creasing the pages or trying to burn it.

Gavin was sitting on the floor beside an old dresser, examining the elaborate hand-carved design.

"This is pretty," he said, fingering A beautiful rose. "what's this?" he then asked, pulling a worn photograph from the side of a bottom drawer.

It was a picture of three people, a man and a young woman holding a little boy. Jessica recognized the man as a much younger version of her grandfather. The child must have been Wess. He couldn't have been more than six years old.

The girl was not Wess's sister. In fact, she looked exactly like Taren. Jessica was confused. If Wess was just a little kid at the time, then Taren would have been much younger than him, maybe only two or three. Jessica figured that the woman must have been Taren's mother.

Before she had time to think more on the matter, Taren entered the room and strode over to them, stealing a quick glance at her precious book as she passed.

"Having fun?" she asked. "your uncle told me to--"

"What's this?" Gavin interrupted, handing her the old photo.

Taren took the picture gingerly and stared at it intently.

"Where did you get this?" She demanded, her tone harsher than Jessica had anticipated.

"In the dresser," said Gavin, taken aback at her sudden ferocity. Taren quickly stuffed the picture in her pocket. It might have been just an involuntary movement, but Jessica saw Taren's thumb move slightly as she stowed the photo away, covering the girl's pretty face. She then stormed back towards the door.

"Next time," she seethed, sticking her head back into the bedroom, "Don't. Touch. What. Isn't. Yours." She then turned and slammed the door dramatically.

Gavin stared after her, dumbfounded.

"So much for that," he said, plopping onto his own bed. Jessica tried to return to her book, but she had suddenly lost all interest.

The afternoon was fading away, casting deep shadows across the walls as Jessica crept down the halls. She was looking for her uncle, longing for the company of an at least semi-familiar face.

"This is ridiculous," she told herself, "this is your home now. You shouldn't have to sneak around all the time." She walked on tiptoes nevertheless.

As she passed the kitchen she froze. Taren was beginning dinner preparations, singing a cheerful song that did not fit her personality in a strange guttural language Jessica didn't recognize. The song was beautiful and dangerous. It settled upon Jessica like a spell with sudden, underlying ominism. She felt the overwhelming desire to run. Wess was obviously not here.

Jessica backed cautiously away from the door and down the hall back to her holding cell. When she entered the bedroom, she found she was alone. Gavin had been asleep when she left him. She didn't see how he could've had time to escape while she was gone, and Jessica would have seen him pass her. She waited for Prison Warden Taren to come and reprimand her for letting Gavin disappear, but she didn't come either. Jessica was beginning to feel very creeped out after five minutes of solitude.