Like I Roll

A Gentle Soul

Shutting the door quietly behind me, I crept up the stairs, attempting to reach the safety of my room and postpone the Spanish Inquisition until tomorrow, or dinner, at least. A stair creaked beneath my foot with the sound of a gunshot in the silence.

No such luck.

"Marina?" Alice called out. "Come here. I need to talk to you."

Sighing, I stepped over to the door that marked the entrance to Alice's Studio. It was currently ajar, showing a glimpse of brightly painted walls and the mess of canvas, used paint bottles and discarded paintbrushes that littered the floor in various states of wear.

Her powers of mess-making astounded me, especially considering we'd only moved in a month ago.

I dodged around the door instead of pushing it open more; not wanting to disturb it. As if if there was no evidence I'd been there, I suddenly wouldn't be.

I didn't hate my mother, quite the opposite, in fact. But lately, when I'd been around her all I'd managed to do was upset her. There was nothing worse in the world that hearing my own mother, just a wall away, crying as if her heart had been viciously torn out of her chest.

She was an artist. I'd never been especially creative, so the way she could create brilliance out of almost nothing...It was like magic, to me. She was magic - but she had such a gentle soul. She didn't deserve what she'd been given in live, yet she acted like she was the luckiest person in the world, never complaining.

The woman in question was facing the wall with a look of deep contemplation on her face.

Her hair, brown, wavy and waist length was still slightly damp; proof of a shower she must of had not an hour ago. I smiled slightly at the thought. She didn't wake up late, enjoying to paint in the soft rays of the sun as it rose. But she she never saw the point of getting dressed until the afternoon. Pyjamas were comfier, she said. I suppose that's what happens when you're used to living in a house where there's nothing for miles.

Instantly my mood turned dark. Was there no escaping it? The sea. It was my freedom, yes but that doomed me to be caged anywhere else. And that in itself was a type of prison.

I shook my head slightly, to clear it. I couldn't afford to think ill of the sea. It would be like hating myself.

"So darling, what do you think?" Alice continued. I blinked. Not a word that she'd said had managed to be heard over my own thoughts.

She was looking at me expectantly.

"I...um...blue?" I half asked, sheepishly.

"What?" She sighed, wiping some paint off her nose.

"Sometimes I think you're not even there. I applied for a job. At an art gallery." Her deep blue azure eyes sparkled with excitement.

"That's awesome! I really hope it works out." I exclaimed, genuinely happy for her. As long as she liked this new life, living here, then I could deal with everything else. Even if it killed me.

Her eyes strayed to my uniform. I cursed silently.

"So how was school?" She questioned casually, as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"It was fine." I answered, only half lying.

It hadn't been as bad, with Ella by my side. But by lunch, I was still left gasping like I'd been half drowned and spent the entirety of lunch outside, trying to breathe as much air as I could. As if it was possible to store it in my lungs for a dark time when I really needed it.

"I made a friend," I added, loving the heartwarming smile that broke across her face. I swallowed down the words that yearned to break free, speaking of how I felt alone in the crowd, weighed down by my situation as heavy as the world on my shoulders, and itching it throw it off and run as fast as I could.

"Her name is Ella."

- Only another short one, but I'm really busy right now. Dedicated to GuitainCatori because she took the time to read my meaningless babble. ;D