No more pretending, it's different now

No more pretending: Chp 6- another day, still pretending

CHAPTER SIX: another day, still pretending

Tap.Tap.Tap.

The clicks of knuckles on wood struck my bones in a teeth juddering fashion. It’s echoes bounced off the walls and up the stairs.

‘Hope! Get out your cupboard! Have you even done your chores yet?’ i sighed as the voice reached me. Rubbing my eye i peered out of my cocoon of sheets, shedding them to reach my pale fingers for my hood. I smiled as i touched it’s soft fabric. Mother had made it for me, it was exactly like the one in little red riding hood’s. Apart from the faded reddish brown colour instead of a luscious ruby red. Lily called it a brick red, not that we have seen bricks recently, all those faintly newish houses were either broken or abandoned to the mice and creeping vines.

Pulling the tough material round me, i flicked the hood up, letting only the stray wisp of hair flutter out to be visible.

I scattered down the stairs, my footsteps only uttering the slight resemblance of a mouse’s.

I reached the heavy door and pulled it ajar, squeezing myself through the small gap i provided myself with.

“HOPE! Where have you been?! Everybody has been looking for you! Did you do your chores? How are you feeling? Why are you holed up in your room? What...” and the questions kept rattling on. My teeth juddered with every question as Felix tightened his grip on my wrist with each syllable, shaking me slightly with each question mark.

“Felix!” a sharp voice raised above his ranting, “You’ll scaring the poor girl!” it was Miss Millbury; she was a bitter lady, and as sharp as the sewing needle she used every second of the day: right now, at this moment she strode towards us with a brown shirt, sewing up a tear down the middle as she advised Felix with every ounce of her being.

I smiled warmly at her. Although her words were bitter like the winter’s frost, her heart was a warm as the colour of autumn leaves. I knew she only meant nice things. She reminded me of dark bitter sweet chocolate. The type that you used to get with the soft mint filling inside.

Well thinking about chocolate is not going to bring it back.

Felix loosened his grip on me, suddenly embarrassed from his outburst. He thrusted one of his hands in his pocket, while the other hovered over his head, rubbing at his short black. His soft blue eyes straying downward as he seemed to abruptly find something very interesting in the stone floor.

“Seen a mouse?” my mouth lifted at one corner giving me a lope sided smile, a hint of a smirk.

“Might have.” He stated in a joking fashion. His confidence flooding back to him as he dropped his hand and flicked my hood back.

I gasped as the cool air hit my face, making my face pinked slightly at the edges like soft white and pink roses; the ones that have the tinge of pink draining inward from the tip.

“you did do your chores right?”

“all but the chickens.”

“Good.” The conversion dropped short and an awkward silence settled over like a icy draft leaking in a warm room.

I looked away and dashed off like i always did, finding the quickest way to exit the speech.

I found myself in the kitchen. My mother being the head cook, whizzed and twirled around the cooking pots, stirring some as she went past, adding salt and herbs to others. She was dancing to her cooking. I seemed to remember she had always danced when cooking and if she didn’t; the cake would sink or the stew would burn. It was almost as if she danced happiness and life into all the food she cooked.

I smiled softly, and started to follow my mother’s extravagant steps, i twirled with her, coping her movements behind her. I could see the smile reach up across her face as she noticed me. And as the dance carried on, i started to help her cook and weave happiness and life into the food itself.

I will always love my mother and family and nothing could take that away from me, even a dark memory and uttered words.