What'cha Doing~?《A Val x Isabella Fanfiction》

6. The Drawing

10 days until Christmas. Or, what was supposed to be Christmas, Valencia thought in frustration, swiftly flipping her pencil with her fingers to turn it around and roughly erase a mistake she made in her drawing.

Winter sucked now. When you experience everything you can expect or ever want from winter, when you move to a place where literally nothing and everything happens along the lines of summer, you begin to just hate the outdoors.

"Why isn't this working?" She growled through gritted teeth. Having been uninspired in continuing her story she began to draw more for her Instagram but, nonetheless, the active thoughts roaming around in her head were concealing the picture she had conjured up. Making another attempt at the bold line she finished the second eye of the mysterious female in her paper, leaning back in the chair to get a second viewpoint. As soon as she saw it was minor compared to the opposite, tugging at her hair as her pencil was whisked away into a foreign stack of art supplies.

"What am I doing wrong?!" She hissed, glaring deeper at her paper as a (what now felt like a stab to her pique) knock rang from the opposite side of the door. She grumbled a "Come in," instantly recognizing the footsteps when they trailed off into her room.

"Valencia!" Her mother called, a stern look resting upon her face. "How do you expect to get a new phone when all you do in here is sit around?" Val slowly turned in her seat and gazed at her tiredly, the nagging voice already shoving an exhaustive pheromone into her brain.

"I'm not sitting around, I'm drawing." She weakly argued back. The statement only set her mother's eyebrows into an angry line, instantly wishing she could take back the words.

"I don't remember asking you to draw. I remember asking you to finish your chores to pay off your damn phone." She scolded, setting her hands on her hips. "Now get up and go!"

Wanting to argue wouldn't help with anything, Val decided with a sigh as she stood up. Arguing that she only had a bit more to finish would earn a scream. Telling her to wait would earn two more minutes and a scream. There was no escaping her wrath; her mother was the definition of it.

Without another word her mother stormed out, most likely to wait for her with some sort of item in her hand for her to take and do work her mother didn't want to do but say it was necessary for her daughter to do. If this place was hell, her home felt more like a prison. Hanging over a fire pit. With sharpened swords buried in the dirt around the fire.

She used to hate school, comparing it to a prison. Now Val just wishes it wasn't summer constantly so she could go back. At least Isabella would be there.

Val took the broom from her mom and watched as her mom loomed over her like a hawk eyeing a mouse. Knowing there was no batting her mom away, she uncomfortably began to sweep the floor.

She wished that she could be as carefree as her drawing.