Painting Life

S e v e n.

Kindly notice that this chapter has been rewritten. Read it again because the story won't make much sense if you don't. Thank you. :)

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Seven | Revealed Secrets. 

H a r i s: 

When I heard a knock on my door, I yelled at the person to come in, assuming that it would be Mommy. She was the only one who'd come up here, anyway. 

So when Daniya walked in, my mouth fell open. I looked at her in surprise for a few seconds before blinking several times and finally shaking myself out of my reverie just enough to croak, "What are you doing here?" 

"You called me bitch." She pointed out, seeming unfazed by the fact that she had come in to my room. 

"You called me douchebag," I replied, matter-of-factly. "We are technically even. Are you expecting me to apologize? Cause I won't?" 

She rubbed her arm skittishly and I swore I saw a disappointed look cross her face, "Whatever." She muttered, "I am here to tell you that you'd be staying. So that you don't worry." 

Taken aback - but pleased - I smiled brightly at her. "Thank you." I breathed in relief. "I thought I was going to have to -" 

"Don't be so grateful." She cut me off sharply. "We have some ground rules to discuss." 

I arched an eyebrow at her inquiringly. 

"You don't get to call my parents, Mommy or Daddy. You will call them Aunty Tahira and Uncle Suleiman only." She started off, her nose high in the air. There was something about her that reminded me of Hermione, Harry Potter's best friend. Maybe it was the know-it-all, slightly arrogant aura. 

I wasn't really happy with the particular rule but I nodded helplessly. I had no other choice. I wondered why people said that you always have a choice. I really didn't. 

"Secondly, you don't get to make me cry again." She continued snappishly.

"It's not my fault you are such a weakling." I sneered at her venomously, hating her more every single second. Who was she to tell me anything? If anyone had that right, it was Mommy. 

Aunty Tahira, my brain reminded me bitterly. 

Daniya's face went red and she scowled, red blotches appearing on her neck. I looked at them in fascination, a little surprised by how her body reacted to anger. "Don't. Call. Me. A. Weakling!" 

"But you are one." I smirked. "You cried when I called you a bitch? How sad is that? I didn't cry when you called me a douchebag." 

"You are guy." She said angrily, almost defensively. "Guys aren't supposed to cry." 

"That's not true! Real men cry when they feel the need to dump out emotions. We can't just keep everything bottled up!" I shot back. 

She swallowed, backing off. "Look, I didn't come here to fight. I just wanted to tell you that I am the real child here and I don't want you to steal that." 

"I can't go against nature, Daniya," I sighed. "You will always be the real child." 

"I meant in terms of love. I don't want Mommy to love you more than she loves me. If she does, you are outta here." Daniya retorted. 

"Fine." I scowled. "In all honesty, I just think you want an excuse to kick me out of here. I am not a football for you to play with, okay?" 

"Whatever." She muttered. "And by the way, Mommy says she needs to see you about some paper stuff to make them your legal guardians. Plus, you need to be enrolled in school or something."