Isabelle or not - The story of a teenage orphan

12

'Mrs Oliver and I were around 4 or 5 in 1939, when the war broke out. And her father died very early, in fact, within the first hour of him entering the battlefield.'
A pang of guilt hits me and I suddenly regret hating Mrs Oliver.
'Her mother didn't take it well at all. She began to forget how to treat and look after her children. She suffered massively and wanted to give herself an easier job.'
I suddenly feel genuinely sorry for poor Mrs Oliver.
I stop wrapping my charm around my finger, in fear that I might break it.
I squeeze it slightly and keep it enclosed in my fist.
Mr Oliver continues-
'She made Mrs Oliver and her sisters wear pink dresses and a bow everywhere they went. She would make them prepare tea, wash the dishes and make the beds. So Mrs Oliver treats you how she was once treated.' When he ends I just nod and go up to my room to think about what I've just heard.