A Mother's Instinct
Written by: Miradeathnote
Chapter 4
After his sad story he began to explain how ended up at the orphanage. He even explained why he always wore his scarf, why he was so big, and where he lived in Russia. After awhile it began to grow dark. We said our goodnights and I left the room.
In honest opinion I couldn't help but smile. Ivan told me his life story, and told me I was his hero. Who wouldn't suddenly feel good about themselves! As I reenter my room I see my mother snoring away. When I lift his head a little I see that he had correctly solved every problem. I feel myself soften, and being the nice brother I am I carry Feliciano to his bed. I tuck him in to bed, lay a soft kiss on his head, and head over to my bed. I strip to my undershirt and my boxers before climbing into bed and shutting off the lamp. In pitch black I stare at the ceiling, sleep never coming.
After tossing and turning for what seems like hours I give up: sleep just wasn't going to come. As quietly as I can I hop from my bed, pull my pants back on, and sneak out of my room. I creep down the halls of many empty rooms, empty classrooms, and empty meeting rooms. The halls always reminded me of those log cabins. The walls and floors were paneled with cherry brown wood that seemed to be hundreds of years old. I remember my first attempt at escape.
It was down one of these hallways where I finally found a window to the outside. It would have been successful if Kiku hadn't opened his mouth and told Ms Elizabeth. Ms. Elizabeth is our caretaker. She cooks and feeds us. She buys our cloths; she bought Feliciano a dress once. She always has a loving heart. Every time I yell at her I always regret it. She is a single women at the age of 34. It has got to be rough. Not to mention she is pregnant and the father left her all alone.
That's when a nagging feeling takes place. It felt like something was missing, something he had to remember- SQUEEAAK!
I step onto the only squeaky board in the entire building. The door to my left opens. Ms. Elizabeth, eight months obviously pregnant, looks frantically around. Then her eyes land on me.
"What are you doing up?" She whispers. She begins to tap her foot, looking very angry.
"Are you trying to-"
"I couldn't sleep Ms Elizabeth." I answer.
She looks uncertain and motions with her hand to come into her room. I was in deep shit.