mythomania

six - a time called you

Hello everyone, 

Just wanted to update that this is a rewrite of chapter six, I took down my last update as I have rewritten the plot! I also apologise for the really slow updates, I had not abandoned my books, I promise! Life has just been really busy and there have been other priorities that needed more attention, so I had had to put this on hold. This is not a promise that I will be consistent, as I am still in the middle of finals, but it is a promise that I will be finishing this book - sooner or later!

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Kind regards,

Elle x

MYTHOMANIA

The walls were cream in Avena's room. She said it made her feel like her room was bigger than it really is. The light colour would cast an illusion that there was more to her room, more space to dance, cry, sing and live in. It would cast an illusion of freedom in my sister's mind, one to tell her she could live, act and breathe however and whenever she wanted. She would be the final determinant. 

But like all magic and illusion, there's only so much we can delude ourselves into thinking is real. Just how the words falling from the lips of a person can be perceived in many ways, but the truth is weighted by the emotions of the speaker.

She never asked for anything more than freedom, that was all she wanted.

To be freed from her ties of her emotions, the ropes of my brothers restrictions, and to live a life as normal as normal could get.

And when the cream walls of her room had began to turn black, and the carpet on the floor to thorns, she chose the next thing that felt like it was freedom.

Now sitting in the midst of the thorn filled carpet, and the stained cream walls, there is a part of me understanding what she had felt.

These walls were beginning to slowly close in on me. And it was not just the ones that were cream, but all the others in this house. 

It had been ages since I last entered her space, possibly years, considering I can't even recall the exact date I had entered. All I could remember was forcing myself to walk in and see what she should have come home to, see where she should have been during that night. I was less than three steps in before I left the room - I couldn't bear to look further. Everything about her, her scent, her favourite books, her schoolwork piled on her desk, it was all so overwhelming. 

I never attempted to return, in fear of remembering exactly what I had lost.

But today, the sinking feeling of being alone was far too great, and my brothers had yet to confront me about what had happened two days ago. Even Rosario had not scolded me yet, but that may have something to do with the fact that both him and Alonzo had not been present around the house in that time.

I didn't really expect much from Rafael, to be honest. He too was scarce, but I could hear him shuffling around the kitchen from time to time or playing music in his room late at night.

Today was unexpectedly more tiring than all other days. Being grounded and having no-one to talk to was horrible of course, but it was something I could deal with, on the scale of all the punishments I could have received, it certainly was the tamest. 

 Yet, when I think about the old mans cigar, the interest in his voice when he queried about me and his beady stare that followed my every step, I couldn't help but wish I could unload the discomfort I felt to someone who would understand me. Not just someone who would listen. Because Alonzo is amazing at that, he would listen to me until I draw my last breath, but he, as a man, would never understand the disgust I felt knowing that they had invited over a potential predator.