"So, you just throw it?" Henry asked for what felt like the millionth time. Reyna had prepped the boy on what to do, advised him on what to wear and briefed on her "special take" on the paint splattering process.
"Yes, Henry. You fling the bucket."
"Okay then." The British boy said, a small frown placed on his small face. A small curl falling directly over his small furrowed brows.
"One. Two. Three." And on the number, Henry released the shyest, most unsure, most nerve filled yell Reyna had ever heard. He belted out a high-pitched yell. Not even a scream like she specified, he yelled.
"Ahhhh!" With the noise he swung his arms back then forward and released. Released the grip his fingers held on the bucket, released the bucket from his person, released the paint from the bucket. The paint fell magnificently, blue splatters raining on the empty white room next to Reyna's bedroom. Reyna snorted. She couldn't help it. While Henry stood with a wistful look on his tanned face, she laughed. A loud, mocking sound.
He had thrown the bucket.
"What? What did I do wrong?" Henry's accent only added to Reyna's amused chimes.
"You," She was interrupted by her own gasp of air, a hiccup of a laugh, and a snort, "threw the bucket!" Henry rolled his eyes.
"Obviously. Was I not supposed to?" Now Reyna's giggles had subdued, leaving a wide smile and flushed cheeks.
"No, you were not."
"Oh." Reyna released another giggle.
"Oh." Henry looked to the blonde with an offended glare. She had mimicked him, mocking his words and accent.
"Think my voice is funny, eh?" His preferred intimidating question only caused more laughter.
"No, course not." Reyna assured.
"Humph." An eyeroll and more snickers followed.
YOU ARE READING
Greeting Insanity
General FictionI find comfort in the colors of the world That's where the "doctors" have it wrong Sticking people like me In rooms adorned only with Plain Crisp White Walls White room White bed White toiletries White necessities It's vile It's cruel And it makes...
