Thank you soooo much to the person that submitted the review, I am glad that you like it so far, and I hope to not disappoint you with the rest of the story. Please keep reviewing. I don't own anything. Thank you.
I wanted to feel angry. I wanted to hate her for having abandoned me at an orphanage all those years ago, and I wanted to be as unaffected by her presence, as she appeared to be about mine. That, however, was not the case. As we traveled together in a car, on our way to the safe house. I continued to make up excuses in my head. I must have invented a million reasons why she felt obliged to leave me with the nuns, but none for why she acted indifferent towards me now. There was an absolute silence in the car. My companion had not played any music, and, aside for the occasional glance my way, I would have believed that she forgot I was there. After a half hour of this, I resigned myself to the circumstances, and slowly drifted to sleep. It was already dark outside when I woke up, and I felt slightly disoriented, the way one does when waking up from an unexpected nap. The door on my side of the car was being opened, and into my line of sight moved the woman with the deep green eyes. My eyesight was still drowsy from sleep, and my eyes were half closed, when the woman gently moved the hair from my face and looked at me tenderly. When she saw me blink myself out of the sleep like state, the look in her eyes sobered, and her face regained its unreadable sternness . She instructed me to collect my things and then guided me to my room, so that I could unpack, for the second time in the past two days.
The room was of medium size and equipped only with the basic furniture (not that I was used to anything different). There was a bed with a nightstand, and a desk with a chair tucked in front, everything in a creamy off-white tone. In its simplicity, it looked incredibly beautiful.
After I was done unpacking I returned to the living room, which was decorated in a similar manner. Natasha offered me a sandwich and then left me to eat it alone, while she checked that all the security measures were functioning properly.
She was back to treating me coldly again, almost making me believe that the way her eyes studied me when she thought me asleep, was only my imagination, wishful thinking. I did not see her again that night. I spent my time exploring the house, walking into every room and through every corridor. There was a fairly large library, a kitchen, and one extra room. There was only one other door left to open, but that one, which I assumed led to my mother's room, was under key.
"How did you sleep?"
The next morning, during breakfast, I took it upon myself to start a conversation. Natasha looked at me, slightly startled, but the emotion only lasted a second. (I was beginning to notice a pattern.)
"I did not sleep"
Honest. Interesting...
"Could I ask why?"
"No."
Of course not...
After a long silence, I decided to try again.
"What are the plans for today?"
"I will be conducting some investigations in the library. You may do whatever you wish, as long as you stay within the grounds."
"Could I see what you're working on?"
"No."
Why did I even asked? I sighed loudly.
I saw the upper corner of lip turn upwards. Is she smiling? And, when she suddenly turned serious again, I noticed I had asked that out-loud.
I finally decided that I would join her at the library. I picked out a fiction novel and began to read it, but, by the time I had reached the third page, I noticed that I had not been paying attention. I had, on the other hand, been observing my mother. My mother. She looked beautiful. She studied some files intently and looked at two different monitors. She must be investigating the Red Room, whatever it was. That too was very intriguing. I was coming to realize that my life had completely changed in a matter of days and that I could barely understand half of what was happening.
"You're not reading"
What? Right. The book. It was the first time she had began a conversation with me. That gave my optimistic mind, a flutter of hope... and a lot more bravery than I knew I could posses.
"I was watching you... I always wondered what my mother looked like."
Her head snapped up, and I suddenly regretted saying what I said, but before I could try to redeem myself, she looked back down at her file. She seemed sad, in a profound sort of way, like someone who has suffered a great loss, but, in a second, it was gone.