No One Cares, When You're A Delinquent

Art

The next morning I was woken up by a bright light shining in my face. I looked to the side and groaned, realizing I forgot to shut the curtain before I went to sleep. I slowly got up, knowing I probably wouldn't be able to sleep with this light, but my body proved me wrong when I lied right back down and was sleeping again before I knew it! When I was finally able to actually get up, I brushed my teeth and went downstairs to greet Rosemary. As soon as I got downstairs however, I saw a lady just a bit older than me. She had a curvy figure, and long red hair up to her upper thighs, and smooth creamy skin. She wore a black "circle skirt" styled dress that stopped a few inched above her knee, and a frilly apron. her shoes were neatly polished and shiny, just like Rosemary's. It's obvious that this lady's the maid, but she's so pretty, I couldn't help but stare.
"Oh, are you the guest Rosemary told me about?" She asked. I nodded.
"I thought she'd invite a boy..." she mumbled. I yawned tiredly and rubbed my eyes.
"Anyway, you're a mess! Let's get you cleaned up and then you can have breakfast. My name's Betty by the way" she said, taking me to a bathroom. She brushed my hair before examining it and cringing.
"Darling, who on earth cut your hair!?" She asked.
"Me" I answered.
"It's so uneven and choppy! Let me fix it!" She said. Without warning, she led me to the bathtub and soaked my hair, before squeezing some shampoo into her hand and scrubbing. After washing and conditioning my hair thoroughly, she dried it with a towel and combed it again. Then she trimmed it to make it even. After that she did an oil treatment in my hair and brushed it until it was soft and shiny. I looked at myself in the mirror, and noticed a huge difference. I didn't look shaggy like I used to, and my hair looked so much richer and healthier.
"Now let's do something about your face!" She said with a grin. She washed my face and put a cream to remove my black heads. After removing it, she washed my face again and applied makeup to my face. It wasn't a lot, it was some powder to liven my face a bit, some cream to lighten my eye bags, some lip gloss to make my lips shine, some blush to pronounce my face a bit more, and some eyeliner to add a seductive look. I took one more look at myself, and almost cried at what I saw. I wasn't "ugly", now. I actually look like someone important, instead of a messy girl. I was so pleased with myself.
"Do you like it? I'm good at what I do. I used to be a model!" She bragged. I looked at her and raised a brow.
"You were a model? And you gave it up to be a maid?" I asked with a laugh.
"Yep! Long story! But I still picked up some tricks in fashion and makeup" she said with a smile. "Now I think I starved you long enough, come on so I can give you breakfast" she said. I nodded and followed her lead. When we arrived at the kitchen, I was seated a few seats away from Rosemary (the table can seat about 7-8 people, so she sat in a middle seat and I sat in a corner seat).
"You look...awake" she commented. Was that a conpliment? Or an insult?
"Oh, yeah, Betty helped me freshen up this morning" I said.
"She used to be a model. She brags about it all the time. It gets annoying after some time, but it's worth it, seeing the positive results she could have on just about anybody" she said, eating some food that was served to her. It was blueberry pancakes, topped with sliced strawberries and syrup, and a little whipped cream, with a side of bacon, eggs, and butter pecan crumpets. I almost audibly cheered when I got my plate, as I practically inhaled the food. We both got a cup of mint chocolate chip milkshakes to wash it down, and that was probably the best meal I've ever had in my entire life!
After breakfast, I read a few books and then went to Rosemary's room, where she was painting a picture of a woman. It was a more gruesome scene than I'd expect a twelve year old to paint though...
"What's that?" I asked, startling her.
"Nothing. Go away" she said.
"Why are you painting that?" I asked. The woman was positioned upright, her stomach open for insects like beetles, mosquitos, butterflies, and ants to feed on her innards, and a large metal pole impaling her butt and coming out of her mouth in a bloody mess. Her vagina was infested with maggits, and was bleeding out heavily. Her fingers were missing chunks of meat, from parasites sucking the blood and fat from them. She was completely naked, and had cigarette burns scattered around her body. Her face looked aroused, drool dripping from the side of her mouth as her pupils dilated to the back of her skull with sadistic pleasure. I felt shivers come upon my back the more I looked at the painting the young child drew.
"I just felt like it" she said, lowering her brush.
"How long have you worked on it?" I asked.
"Ever since I found your information. So for a few weeks" she answered.
"You had my information for a few weeks before telling me?" I asked.
"I had to think of something to say first. I couldn't just call you and say; hey! I've been stalking you online! Just wanted to tell you that! Also, I know about your personal life, and it sucks but there's nothing I can do, so I'll call you back when I think of something! I'd sound like a psychopath!" She said. "Well I mean...I might already be..." she said lowly, looking down. I put my hand on her shoulder awkwardly, not knowing what do say.
"I think it's a really good painting! You're very talented" I complimented.
"Isn't it scary?" She asked.
"Duh! But that just makes it better! I'm not really an artist, so I don't care much for most paintings, no offense" I started. "But this is the first time in years that a work of art has actually affected me, and made me feel" I said. "Isn't beautiful, in a weird, twisted way" I finished.
"Thanks"
"Who is it?"
"Your mom"
"What the actual fuck?"
"Calm your tits, I was disgusted and angry when I heard what was happening at your home, and I had to express those feelings through art, but when I saw how sadistic I was being, I hid the painting. I kept it and finished it because of its potential, but this can never be shown to anyone" she said. For a twelve year old, this chic is actually really frikin mature!
"Hey, you already know my problems, how a out you tell me some of yours?" I suggested.
"No" she said.
"Why not? I'll listen" I said.
"Just, no! I didn't take you just to talk about my problems with you! I don't even like you that much! And I barely even know you, old lady" she said.
"Well excuse me for trying to help!" I snapped sassily. "But in case you didn't realise, I never asked for your help! I appreciate it and all, but you don't think I find it the least bit weird that you stalked me, and then talk about my problems as if you knew me too?" I finished.
"It's not the same! I was obligated to help because that's what Maya would have wanted!" She shouted.
"MAYA'S GONE!!!" I shouted. There was a moment of silence, and Rosemary's face looked hurt, but also angry, and in that moment, I instantly regretted what I said. But it was too late to take it back.