Is It Love? DROGO

Chapter 10: Wolf story and a bitch

©Claire Zamora

Edited by inkandpixie

Red Crandall

I go down the corridor glancing around, looking for the little girl, and find her sitting on her bed, sulking. I knock softly on her door and go in, despite her dirty look. She's playing with her dolls and pays no attention to me. I gently approach and sit down at the end of her bed.

"Lorie?" She's always ignoring me. The ego in this family is a real problem.

"Come on, Lorie, I'm sorry, I wasn't gone for long."

"You said I was a pest." And I honestly thought so.

"I say a lot of things and they're not all true."

"That's for sure!"

"Lorie..."

"I can tell, you don't love me."

"But that's got nothing to do with it, I'm here to take care of you, and sometimes you might not like my decisions. But it's normal, it's my job to make decisions for your own good, even if you don't like them."

"I don't care about that! All I want is a nanny who plays with me and who does what I say!"

"In that case, you're going  to be disappointed. I'm your nanny, not a slave." The little girl pouts. Maybe in another era, she tortured her nannies but today we're in 2018!

"I'm not here to make your life easier, so you might as well get used to." She contemplates me with an undisguised hatred that makes me feel quite uncomfortable. What a problem!

"Maybe both of us should try to understand each other better. These ongoing quarrels are as exhausting for me as they are for you, you know." Lorie looks stubborn and puts on her bad day face. Yet I'm sure we could really get on better.

"You're a smart little girl. You know that the rules have been set by your brothers for your own good."

"So what, you're not one of my brothers!"

"That's true, but I follow their guidelines when it comes to taking care of you. And they want the best for you."

"Well, I prefer it when they take care of me... Especially as father is never here."

"That's normal, but you know they aren't always available. They have their lives too."

"Maybe, but who cares about my life?" My heart breaks at her remark. Frustrated at being imprisoned for eternity in this child's body.

"No one understands." I'd like to give her a hug, but Lorie isn't a child like any other. Maybe that's what my problem.

I'm speaking to her as if she were a six year old when she's actually been around for decades, maybe even centuries. It must be unbearable for her. All the same, I can see that she's thinking about my words I think. I've caught her attention this time.

"What if you have an accident?"

"An accident?"

"Yes, if example, you slide down the stairs and break your neck as you fall?"

"Lorie. Where do you get such ideas?" I try a different approach. She looks at me in silence for a moment.

"You might not understand but that's what happens. People fall and break their necks." Shiver runs through me. She's starting to frighten me again. Has she experienced something like that? After all, I don't know anything about her past. And a trauma could explain her disturbed mind.

"Has it ever happened Lorie? Has anyone close to you had on accident in the past?" Do I really need to dig through her neurotic past?

She pulls at her dolls, with a thoughtful face. Apparently, I'm right.