'Hi, I'm Kelly. I recently moved here,' I sweetly said to the old lady standing in front of me.
She did not seem to be a person that you could win using a smile. Standing tall, she looked down at me through her silver glasses. That in itself was annoying considering we were the same height. I didn't much like someone look down at me.
Although her hair was white, I could still see strings of grey that lay hidden behind her bun. Yes, she stood tall, and yes, she seemed to think that she was better than mankind, but her long pink dress seemed to have a bit too many wrinkles.
Appearances, I silently whispered in my head. I, on the hand, stuck to the style I had created when I took a trip to the library. Hair tied up, glasses on, I wore a floral dress with a blue cardigan. So innocent.
'Oh, oh yes. Your young brother came a few days ago, did he not?'
'Most probably,' I smiled, 'but today you have me,' opening my arms wide, I continued to smile. 'I have also brought some cookies with me to share. Brownies too if that is your preference,' I leaned forward and lifted an eyebrow slightly.
The old woman laughed and invited me in. Why wouldn't she? Charming people was a talent that I had taken from my dad. But this was too easy. A woman like her, fall so easily?
Handing over the small box, I decide to walk around the house. Her house was smaller than ours, but still held that 'old fashion' feel to it. I noticed some candle holders on the side.
'Do you use candles?' I asked.
'No, of course not. Who does in this day and age? Oh, and your brother was such a sweet little boy,' she smiled and moved off to another direction.
'This will be easy,' I chuckled to myself. Jamie had paved a way for me, and he had no idea about it. Lifting my hands in front of me, could I do this? My palms weren't shaking. Surely that was a good sign?
Quickly slipping on my gloves, I pulled out a test tube and scalpel. It was the type of knife that my mum kept for her work. Stealing a box full of disposable gloves from her room was not difficult.
'So dear, how many sugars do you take?' The old woman had returned with tea and the cookies that I had brought along, on a silver tray.
I didn't dare move. I wanted to see the look on her face when she identified my reason for visiting her. I wanted to see the look on her face when she noticed the knife, the gloves, the test tube and finally, the ending.
'Oh, what a story!' I clasped my hands together, completely forgetting that I held a tube and scalpel. But I held true enthusiasm and the adrenaline rush was pushing me on the brink of losing my patience. Pushing the equipment back inside my pockets, I focussed my complete attention on her, whilst slowly peeling off the gloves. My body wanted to get it over with, but my mind had other ideas. Mind games and take it slow.
'A story?' She asked. My back was turned towards her.
'Yes, Mrs Hayes,' I stated.
'My story, or your story? Dear, what is wrong and why has your voice taken on a different tone?'
'You seem to pick things up pretty quick, madam' I responded.
She hesitated. I could hear her breathing quicken. Oh the joy it brought. Just changing the tone of my voice could affect her. The dear old woman. Was I wrong about her?
'Why are you-?' She stopped, but her voice shook.
'Please don't stop, why not finish your question?' I gestured with my hand. My other hand was balled into a fist.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy in the PaintingMystery / Thriller
'Death is our best friend from childhood. It is just lost in this cruel world. When it finds its friend, what happens, only it decides. Has Death found its best friend? We will find out tonight,' Father Jones calmly stated. I like drawing, so yes, t...