Childish Tendencies

Fairytales

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Chapter 4- Fairytales

Mia

Mia saw the sprinkle of a tear in Alia's hazel eyes and immediately wrapped her arms around Alia, seating herself in Alia's lap. She could fell Alia recoil under her with surprise.
"What are you doing?" Alia shook.
"Hugging you," Mia shrugged getting off of Alia's lap, "You were crying." She said simply, taking Alia aback. Mia really was just a kid. Mia sighed, and turned towards the closed window.
"So, you want to paint?" Alia broke in, removing the canvas and brushed from her bag.
Mia nodded, taking the paint from her. Alia set the canvas up on the wall in front of her.
"We need water," Alia said lightly. Mia's hair fell into her eyes as she reached for the button near her bed. A few seconds later, a plump nurse, who reminded Alia too much of Dolores Umbridge, poked her head into the room.
"We need water." Mia repeated Alia's words. The nurse nodded and mentioned for Alia to follow her outside to fetch water. Mia leaned back against the wall behind her bed, staring at the empty canvas.

The last person to visit Mia had been Mrs. Greaten. A thin, tall women with skin so frail that it might tear if one touched it. She would always keep her hair in a tight bun above her head, which showcased her large forehead. Bangles would always dingle of her wrists, jingling when she brought her fingers to her forehead, calming her crinkling brow. Whenever she would walk into the room, she would bring an aroma of flowery perfume and the inexplicable stench of radish. Mrs. Greaten or Mrs. G, as Mia called her, was Mia's 'counsellor'. She used to show up every month with a fake bright, "Hello,", flip flops slapping against the floor. Mia couldn't help but cackle at Mrs. Greaten formal attire of a plaid skirt and white shirt as opposed to her informal flip flops. Although she despised how nosy Mrs. G was, Mia missed chuckling at her. It seemed like everything happy in Mia's life was stolen from her except of course the pendant that hung around her neck.

"Hey," Alia barged in to her thoughts, snapping her fingers in front of Mia's eyes, "Ready to paint? I have the water here." She lifted up the glass, the milky asylum water dripping from the rim.

"No, I'm not in the mood now," Mia replied, crossing her hands in front of her chest.

"What?!" Alia's voice rose in pitch.

"I don't want to paint," Mia pouted, "Do you want to know the names of all my friends?" She pointed towards the soft toys sprawled across her bed. Alia opened her mouth, bewildered in Mia's non-chalant change of mind. Not waiting for an answer Mia began, "This is Fur," she pointed at the white bear, "he loves to eat biscuits," she lifted the crocodile, "this is Snappers, he doesn't like sugar cause it spoils its big teeth and gives him cavities," Mia hugged the yellow beaked duck, "this is Constantine, she loves to fly-"

"You don't want to paint?" Alia cut through Mia's monologue. Mia shook her head vigorously. "I want you to tell me a story," Mia's eyes grew round, pleading Alia to tell her a story. Alia looked down at her hands, shocked at Mia's rapid distractions.

"But, I'm here so you can paint," Alia began.

"I don't do things I don't want to. Tell me a story."

"I was hired to help you paint!"

"Tell me a story."

"We have to paint."

Mia scowled, "You have to tell me a story."

"You have to paint, Mia."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do,"

"I don't do stuff I don't want to!"

"You are painting," Alia stared at her intently, pointing at Mia.