My back was pressed against the cold tiles. I was painting with frozen hands while laying down on the floor. The hard surface made my head to throb apace. But, I wasn't feeling like to get up. What's the point of getting up? I had nothing to do nor had anyone to talk that would lit with words and smiles. Sometimes pain can be relaxing in their own way. I laughed silently, wished time had stopped. I wished time had stopped along with me. Didn't that mean dying? Had anyone ever realized the mockery of life that's continuously chuckling while pointing at us? Those with the perfect life was dying but the one that was completely dissolved in the shapeless life was living. Living with a dead soul. How would you define a dead soul? A soul with an indefinite shield, ergo unable to embedded itself with a mere sword. Life had always been so cruel.
How long had I been painting for? It's almost past noon. I got up on my toe, kept my drawing stuff to their places in turmoil condition.
"Little miss, you must have your lunch now," a sturdy voice echoed in my large room.
"Aunt Thea, you don't have to nudge me all the time to eat, you know that I'm a good girl, right? I eat everything on time," said simpering at her brightly.
"Yeah that's why you are having your lunch at 3 o'clock, Little miss," she paused with a sweet smile touching her lip rim, "You are never going to take care of yourself, I've been watching you since your childhood. No more talking, Little miss. Now quickly have your lunch." After saying that she started tidying up my bed.
I came downstairs and found Uncle William had prepared all the dishes with his usual burnish. He was on leave for about a week. I had been always pondering why a talented and skilled chef like him was doing household cooks. Though it's not a normal house rather the house of The BABs but still the years he spent here if he had given a little effort he would have been famous for the culinary art by now. Well, I guess not everyone is raving for prominence and fame. The massive television which is always in slumber except in my meal times, even now it was showing some gibberish birthday celebration of The BABs. I pitched in surfing through all other channels but couldn't find a single channel without a birthday celebration. This type of occurrence wasn't brand-new to me but how come there wasn't any channel without a eulogize dedicating to her.
After getting done with my lunch I swiftly discarded myself out of the room. I felt like going out today. Some of my drawing stuffs were about to adjourn so definitely need a replacement with the new ones. I started sorting out my things then made a list of those replacements, found only two things were of the most necessity which was on the verge of their new successor. I pressed the bell and before even twinkling my eyes Aunt Thea was there. She seemed a bit stumped, quite sure because I had never called her ever before, it had always been her coming herself in my room to check if I needed anything or it might be to ensure if I was breathing, forbye alleged with life. A silent laugh came out on own which was definitely not seen by a distinct soul. Guess what, it makes sense, people's mind definitely going to question themselves whether the girl upstairs in her room is alive seeing that there's no sign of life emerging through the slight gap of the door.
"Aunt Thea, I'm going out now, will be back in an hour," it wasn't necessary to call her, I could have just said this downstairs while leaving but why I had felt like calling her didn't know.
She looked at the crumpled piece of paper in my hand and started saying, "If you need anything just tell me Little Miss, I can get that for you."
"I have to get these stuffs myself."
"Little miss, are you going to buy gifts for your mother?" Warmness was coiled up on her words.
"No."
I came downstairs. Moving towards the main door. With every step both consciously and unconsciously I was waiting for it. It had been elapsing towards me since the day I was first introduced to the outside world.
"Little Miss," My pace halted unaided like every other time, as if my legs know exactly what to do. I didn't want to hear them again. I tried to cover my ears. But my hands laid down, fingers clutching my cloth firmly. Teeth clenched on its own. I hate me.
"The moment your legs touch the outside ground, you eventuate from the family of Andrew."
"You are Arlene Andrew,"
"Not Arlene Agnes anymore," A frigid voice of Aunt Thea echoed throughout the mansion.
I hate everyone in this mansion.
I hate Arlene.
I hate myself.
