mirror // pansy parkinson

fifteen

A word to describe the dining hall was luxurious.

There were about five enormous tables, all extravagant and neatly positioned. Only one table had chairs. Golden chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling. They were shining ever so brightly and I marveled at them.

I was still shaking from the fact that all this while my dress with white and not the nice midnight black. I was quite disappointed, though, white is plain and so dull.

My eyes twitched as I stared up at the chandeliers.

'Pansy?'

Tearing my gaze from it, I looked ahead and saw Winona at the table, setting out plates.

'What are you doing here?' she asked.

'I was hoping to join you guys,' I said, faking a cheery tone.

I instinctively looked at the ceiling again and this time, there were no golden chandeliers. No surprise there.

I continued, 'you know, I might get better sooner or later so what's the harm of spending some time with my mates here?'

No one seemed to realize my dripping sarcasm. It was there, all right, hanging intensely in the air. Tossing my stubborn hair back, I pulled a chair beside Carter, who was arching a brow. I peered at the plates, narrowing my eyes. Even with my glasses on, I still had to squint.

'What's for dinner?' My stomach grumbled.

'Are you sure you're okay?' Winona asked, ignoring my question irritably. 'You're usually so drained in the near evening.'

'I'm fine, Winnie, seriously,' I said exasperatedly, waving a dismissing hand. 'Also, when will I ever get better if I just lock myself in my room?'

Winona just sighed. 'Alright then.'

'Nice gown. I like the color. '

She blinked. 'Thanks, I guess? Didn't think you're fond of navy blue.'

Navy blue, huh.

The brunette girl set a plate in front of me. It was, like any other day, a generous chunk of meat with the same awful gravy.

Carter started to yawn widely. He held a palm against his mouth and leaned backward. For some reason I found him yawning endearing.

Carter looked tired, I realized. No, he looked worn out. And those two weren't the same thing. I noticed the black circles around his eyes and how pale and gaunt his face was.

Why is he so tired?

'I'm so tired,' he muttered sleepily then blinked as if he remembered something distasteful. He craned his neck to look at Winona. 'Hey, Win, where's Greta?'

Winona's face held a scowl. She whirled towards the grandfather's clock at the corner of the hall. 'Well, she is quite late–'

'Ah, Parkinson! I see you decided to join us.'

Greta Felix's heels clicked the marble tiles, her footsteps echoing. She had a lovely smile on her face and she looked happy to see me here. I was careful not to frown or glare. I smiled brightly around my fork.

'Hi, Mrs. Felix! I feel a bit better this evening and thought I ought to join you for dinner.'

'That's wonderful, darling.'

I suddenly stiffened.

Her motherly tone struck a chord in me. It struck me hard. My heart sank. I realized how bad I longed to hear someone saying those words to me in a very loving way again.