This chapter is dedicated to patriciapenrose
————————————————I was bored. Again. I can't recall the number of times I've said something like that. It was day but no one was in save for the older woman, who apart from giving me disgusting stuff (drugs, said she) had been at her laptop since.
I bounced on the springy sitting place, this was way better than the hard, butt-punisher back in my box and was wide and comfy, too. The TV had long lost its lustre to me. After browsing through numerous channels, I finally realized there was nothing of my taste on it. If one channel wasn't forecasting the news, another was showing skimpy dancers, or worse, confusing dialogues. Movies weren't on till four of the clock, said the older woman.
I couldn't help but wish I hadn't left the-Notebook-with-the-eaten-apple with Howard. He'd, well, gone to school with it, not knowing he had his own in his piece of cloth.
'Are you okay?' The older woman looked up from her laptop and asked.
'Yes.' I sigh. 'I'm just bored.'
She came over and before I could duck, rubbed my hair.
I frowned and now ducked. She quickly retracted her hand with a strange look on her face like she was trying to decipher something encoded on my face.
'Sorry,' she said. 'I forgot you didn't like that.' But I had a feeling she was lying, probably to annoy me.
I shrugged like I didn't care even though I did. Why . . .? Um, maybe I shouldn't go there. So instead I said, 'I'm also so hungry.
'Glutton—' she started walking to the food box (kitchen, Tatiana, it's called kitchen, said Dad)— 'you've eaten enough already to feed a nation. Lucky you, it's time for lunch and the others are gonna be home soon.'
I chuckled. 'Can I come with?'
I'd wondered how those delicious meals were being made since that first day and I felt the need to learn how to make something like that. That way I wouldn't have to bother her whenever I wanted something to eat.
'No, you shouldn't cook anything yet. You can go to the game room to kill time.'
I swallowed nervously, that word again. 'Um, kill?'
She smirked playfully and threw up her hands in a shrug. 'Yeah, you know . . . while away the time, kill time — same thing,' she explained. 'Now, shoo, go do anything while I make you something —' she suddenly gasped.
Worry ran through me. Was she okay? 'Okay, Mom?' I voiced my thought.
She was speechless for two full seconds then burst out, 'Oh em gee! Did I just rhyme?'
It's times like this I wished I had summoned the courage to ask Marilla to teach me the eyeroll act.
'No, duh,' I said, remembering the funny-sounding affix Howard always used in situations like this. 'That sure wasn't a rhyme, more like repetition of a word.'
She searched my face as if trying to decide if I was being sincere or not. Finally she huffed. 'You're all the same, you don't understand the spirit of rhymes.'
'Whatever, I'm going to the game box.'
'Okey. Tatiana, if you hear my system ping come call me?'
I nodded and went towards the game box. I pulled open the bright cover slowly, as if expecting a to spring on me at the other side. I stepped in and was overwhelmed by the silence, this box seemed to be soundproofed. Somehow it did not look the same without Howard's presence. I shivered.
YOU ARE READING
Chronicles of an Amnesiac | √
Mistério / SuspenseTiana for the life of her can't remember anything, not even her family. Then the family set out to find an antidote for her amnesia. . . or so it seems Then again a lot of things are bothering her, she has the strong onus that there's something c...