Chương 62: Chapter Fifty Eight: Paintings, Dinners, And Flowers

He mock gasps at me and finishes his sandwich with a slight flair belonging to an apprentice pretending to be a master. Even a slight whistle his own making acts as a sound effect. The knife creates one last satisfying crunch sound on the bread as he reapplies my jam. Tucking away the knife to take a big bite of it. He moans with satisfaction, and I stare daggers at him. He's doing it on purpose now. The suitcases and I share a sigh. At least I have more in there.

I asked the girls to pack extra food in my suitcase and among my clothes. But what they packed is nothing compared to what I've steadily accumulated in my bag. I massaged the place on my arm where it used to be. I've heard enough horror stories about boarding school to prepare for the worst after hearing it. Sasha would have been laughing up a storm at me for all of this. Cackled like a witch. Over the sound of Father Have I Sinned~ An atheist at heart but the church has its perks, she would say.

Free food, music, the chairs are pretty hard but if you pretend to cry they let you sleep in the office. Oh. And you can meet people. Only other way to forge such a connection is boarding school, water boarding, and…. I forgot the rest but you get the point. I wouldn't say crazy but maybe a little koo-koo- for cacao puffs? Behind her back and to her face, the sisters draped in their pious habits at St. Agatha's would call her the Antichrist. Totally undeserved.

Hard wooden pews would've made me shift uncomfortably as I told her about this. Wanting more but unable to stay in one spot as one fleeting thought dated her to go beyond. A world beyond a world. Maybe in another dimension. Where talking robotic birds, heretical gods, heathen lifestyles, witches, ghosts, demons, and madness coexisted alongside discipline. Feminine virtue. A mad world preaching modesty and domesticity. She'd say something profound like.

"A world that lies together. Will lie forever. Until they die together. And then maybe do some group activities together." She'd throw her head back and laugh some more.

"Honestly, sounds like a dream come true." A stray tear bounces off of her crooked index finger as she wipes away at the condensation. Poisonous looks from either aisle. I didn't have the urge to tell her to be quiet anymore.

"It's not. It's even more dangerous than here is."

"Is it? It sounds exactly the same. Everyone in line. Pledging to their leaders. Kids following their parents and parents following the rule of law. Drinking. Dying. Being drunk. Everyone looks the same through a drunk man's eyes."

"I guess so. I guess we'll never know. Something like that wouldn't be possible here." No way to test it. Circling the indentations of the wood I barely noticed her sudden stillness.

"Three Our Fathers…" A young woman head bowed talked the ear off of the holy man. While he searched for the pause button where there was none. It was funny. Funny to me. Who was more devout? The one who couldn't stop praying or the one with the collar? I didn't know the answer then and I decided if I couldn't find I'd look away like most people would. Something flew past my head and I raised it with the sudden sound of hateful wind. Sasha did what she would do.

A trusty rock permanently glued to her hand would find itself free. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Blood will flow. Screams would commence. Sasha would get pulled away, and I'd get called into the office. Where I'd skillfully feign ignorance under the doubtful eyes of a collared man until they let me go. Indigo hair flying in the wind as we escaped down an alleyway, both our escape plans well tested by time.

"They always fall for it." Sasha stopped to pick up a brick and I cringed.

"Mhm." I waited with bated breath for her. She never quite got why I still went to church even after my stepfamily was gone. It was quite simple. I didn't have a lot of friends. Scratch that. I had two friends. Sasha and my dog which might have offended her on one occasion when I said she was my second best friend. Both got sent away to a 'farm in the country' one day. She'd have retaliated by now. Taken the two weeks notice and papered it everywhere. Just the way of the world has glossed over everything I endured.

The brand still feels brand new sometimes. I always have to keep my head above the water. Just hearing the name of the woman who did this to me… She'd have loved the world for its existence even though her working theory was it was all the same. Could I say the same? Do I like anything here? Is food the only reason I stay? Eric follows my line of sight and says between bites, "We should start packing before she comes back. She probably just wants to make sure that you're settled in and ready."

I blink and take a deep breath before nodding in agreement. Erichean devours the last remnants of his stolen sandwich, and I remind myself to have a talk with the others. We don't know how long we're going to be here. They can't keep devouring my snacks like this. How long are we even going to be here? Erichean brushes off his hands and opens a suitcase. Gingerly, he plucks a shirt up and sniffs the air. Then he shakes it, and a little package full of food comes loose. Bread. Not just bread.

It smells like iron and salt. Maybe a sandwich?

"..." He raises his eyebrows.

"Miseria, are we not feeding you enough?" I avert my eyes, and we continue unpacking. Unstably, I crawl off the edge, drop to the floor, and start sifting through my luggage. Towards the bottom, three thin wooden boxes sit. Carefully wrapped in luxurious red fabric. His eyes light up, and he grins, revealing his sharp teeth.

"Is this a secret diary? Or some royal jewels?" I tilted my head as I tried to remember what the boxes contained. Jewelry? I usually keep that in the space just in case to sell. He undoes the latch on both sides and pulls it open. That's right. Sometime ago, I had become curious as to what Eric gave me for my birthday. So I opened the inventory booklet, leafed through it, and had them delivered to me from the storage.

"You kept them?" A chemical odor lifts off the paper, and I lean over. Although I'm not very interested in painting, just a glance reveals the skill of the one who created the image. A satisfied bunny lying on its back on a grassy knoll bathed in sunlight. A butterfly lingering on a desolate branch. Then my favorite. A luminescent elk wanders around a sea of red roses set in a snowy background.

"They're beautiful. I never thanked you properly for them. Do you know who the artist is?"

"..." His fingers linger on the edge of the paper, and I nudge him to get his attention. His gaze flickers, and he shakes his head no. With deliberate care, he places the paintings back in their special boxes and places them on the floor so we can sort everything else out. Tea sets, clothes, a worry doll, shoes, pillows, blankets, books, ink bottles, snacks, toiletries, incense sticks, and a bundle of Nightshade Parchment later. We were done sorting out my mess.

I was allowed to take one rug from the 'forbidden room' to place next to my new bed. Rubbed raw needs sighed in comfort now that I no longer needed to shimmy across the solid ground. The bed looked like it'd last me a long while. A large satin pigeon blue pillow sat at the head and was accompanied by smaller pillows of similar colors. The white and blue rug strangely matched perfectly with the bed coverings the staff had chosen.

Across from my bed was a large window that jutted out so that a section of it could be sat on and turned into a reading nook. A desk taller than me waited next to it. When I placed books over the edge of the table, I noticed scratches on the underside. Kaerel. Phiomen. Nakii. Ione. Names. They didn't seem like words that served any other functions. Previous owners? My fingers dug into the little divots left behind and then trailed away. It's a bit too dusty. I suppose no one's lived here in quite some time.

Eric placed my worry doll on the windowsill, and I cringed. It's a cute bunny, I just don't like how wide its button eyes are and how it's always staring. After that, Eric filled the kitchen with my other essentials while I rolled around on the carpet. Once he's done, my temporary home away from home is looking lived in.

"Phew." We decided that the official bedroom would be shared between me and Kissae. The living room and kitchen would be turned into a room for the boys. And the prayer room would go untouched. I was seriously tempted to just turn it into another bedroom for the others, but Erichean shot me a glare that told me to drop the idea. He seems really avoidant of anything witch-related. Maybe they traumatized him with girly stuff?

By the time Hypatia had come back, we were both exhausted and lying spread-eagled on the rug in my room. She gave the house a cursory look and nodded to herself like she approved. Then she ordered in a no-nonsense tone." Get up. It's time." I groaned and got up from the ground. Erichean tried to get up to follow, but she dismissed him.

"Not you. Just her." I gave Erichean a help me look and he shook his head without hesitation.

"I'll be right here. Shout and I'll come get you." Coward. Hypatia huffed, offended that we were so guarded against a random woman we just met. I followed her out of the bedroom and across the living room into the prayer room. She already had a table and a couple of pillows set up on the floor.

"Remove your shirt."

"..." I crossed my hands over my chest, and I looked her square in the face.

"Not without dinner and some flowers." And maybe a movie.