Her elbows were laid against the hard, wooden table; her hands clasped with her chin resting above; her sharp eyes piercing through the imaginary flesh of books she once read. The silence that surrounded her ears gave an unsettling feeling that even sent shivers down to her spine. Sharmaine stared at the empty space just to see the cunning face of her mother.
There was a lingering frown under the fake smile she gave. The fresh sun shone brightly through the big window behind Sharmaine. She thought of the way Iris' eyes glowed; the way she looked at Sharmaine that was seemingly calm and unsurprised. Sharmaine swallowed, trying to collect and pick the necessary words that fit her narratives.
The family library got lonely and dark sometimes. She stared at the spiral staircase, thinking back to what had happened when she discovered a big stone door at the very bottom. It seemed weird as to why Merry acted strangely hostile—were there special books in that chamber?
She grumbled; the sequences of events did not make sense one bit as she took small steps back to her table, not noticing that her grumbling stomach. As time passed, her pile of books increased to the point that she was shaken by the minimal thud of tea cups beside her.
"Look what time it is. You said you'll eat, young miss," the old woman said, her face looking at her with slight disappointed.
Sharmaine giggled. "Oh my. I'm very sorry. I was just to busy reading the books and—"
She was cut off by a merry laughter with loud snorts. "Oh, miss. You are very much like the mistresses when they were little. The way you walk, the way you flaunt your eyes around other people, and the way to perceive things are very nostalgic."
"Mistresses? The President and Merry?" A slight amazement caught her interest.
"Oh, no. It's a confusing family, you see. What do you like? Tea with maple syrup?"
She nodded and did not mention any more words. The old woman was cheery all-throughout her services. There was no hint of sadness, which made Sharmaine wonder if the lives of those 'mistresses' were normal and joyous. She stared at the page then to the steaming hot tea, trying to comprehend the information that was given to her.
Time skipped past, and soon the skies darkened. The gentle sound of raindrops that hit the roof calmed the raging storm inside of Sharmaine. The brewed tea in her cup was gone, however, the remaining tea in the teapot became cold. It was unappetizing, and seeing as the old woman was nowhere to be found, she picked up the tea set and gently paced through the lonely but calming hallways.
The set was heavy, and with every step she took, the cups jiggled. When she arrived at the kitchen, she was immediately stunned by how clean it was. The kitchen was spacious, shining and awfully jam-packed with food.
She threw out the old and cold tea on the sink, and began searching the cupboards for more. When she found a can of loose tea, she started brewing some; its aroma fled throughout the kitchen and halls. It was certainly calming and nature-smelled.