AmAzEd: Omg, thanks! :)
Elektra left the room (thankfully), leaving me with maybe my only opportunity to sort out my belongings in peace and privacy. I had considered going after Rick, yet I wondered exactly what was the point in doing so; I had wanted privacy, now I achieved that, why should I chase after him and destroy all my efforts? Seems silly to me. Mummy always said that people who made a fuss for no reason were attention seekers, sinners once again. Mummy had used these words (and several other, much more inappropriate ones) to describe Daddy. I didn't really know if I agreed with her, as Daddy seemed fine to me; he was always playful and happy around me, yet I knew Mummy always knew best.
I sat on the deep blue carpet, taking a deep breath, before unzipping the sports bag my possessions had hastily been thrown into. I pulled out my few items of clothing, reaching across and piling them into my drawers, not caring to neaten them and hang them properly in the wardrobe; in there, they stood a much higher chance of being destroyed, damaged, stolen, burned or something similar by Elektra. Below my clothes was the little bottle of posh perfume that Mummy had brought me back from France once. Mummy had gone to France on a business trip, she could barely afford help to supervise me during this period and all her relatives disapproved of her, (Mummy didn't ever like them anyway) meaning she left me locked, alone in the house for a week. She had stocked enough food to keep me fed, and assured me it would be fun, an adventure even. It wasn't. It was horrible. By the time a week had passed, the supply of food had already run out and I had no means in which to accumulate anymore, the TV had broken and the place was generally a mess, she of course scolded me severely for this, utterly discarding the fact that the house was probably messier prior to her trip. So she bought me the perfume to say sorry. I had never used it though. It stank horribly and the bottle was rather smashed and tacky, yet I pretended that I loved it. I had to, hadn't I? At least she never left me alone again.
I carefully wrapped the perfume bottle in an old hoodie, shoving it towards the back of the draw. Returning to the sports bag, I pulled out my scrapbook. It was originally set as a school project to complete over summer, but it had become habit and soon turned into an addiction. The book was bulging from cover to cover, photos, sketches and paragraphs crammed into each page. Usually I did a page each day, but ever since Mummy had died, I couldn't bring myself to; there was nothing good, happy or interesting to record. I heard a clicking sound, as the door opened. Rick.
He glanced down at the book in my hands, then at the opened sports bag, then at my open drawer, then finally down at me, "I'm sorry," he sighed, I nodded, "you wanted privacy, I understand," his eyes, slowly drifted towards the floor, almost as if he was disappointed in himself. Why would he be? He had no reason to be? Surely, he should be disappointed in me. I'm the one that caused all the trouble.
"Oh," my eyes drifted towards the scrapbook, I still held in my hands, "I'm still unpacking, so uhm... see you later?" I pulled on a smile, in an effort to make Rick comply with my request, he simply sighed, slowly bringing his gaze up, until it met mine.
"Gina made me help you," he sighed, "I've got no choice," he made his way across the room, sitting beside me and glancing across at the scrapbook, which I immediately slammed shut as his deep brown eyes drifted over a picture of Mummy, happy and smiling. I couldn't barely look at it myself. "Who's that?" he looked straight into my forest green eyes, "who was the lady in the picture?" I bit my lip, choosing to remain silent, "she's very pretty," he smiled and I sighed, gingerly pulling the book open, flicking slowly back to the page it had been previously on.
"She was my mother," I bit my lip, harder this time, not quite daring to make eye contact with Rick, "she, she," I took a deep breath in, " died," I exhaled with a heavy sigh, not quite quite wanting the truth to really dawn on me. Deep inside, I just wanted to think this was all pretend. I wanted Mummy to be alive.
"I'm sorry," he glanced across at me, pausing for a moment before continuing, "my parents were scammers," he paused once more, "both are in prison now," he let out a heavy sigh, "sometimes I just wished we could be a normal family, with real jobs and real lives," he made eye contact with me once more, "money can't buy you everything, especially stolen money," I nodded, sighing.
"I'm sorry," I smiled reassuringly across at him and he quickly returned the gesture, "my family was far from normal anyway. My dad just left one day, out of the blue," I paused for a moment, not wanting to relive the memories, "one day, I woke up and he was gone," I bit my lip hard, forcing the tears back, "and then one day I wake up and she's dead," tears freely began to flow from my eyes now.
"It's okay," Rick whispered, pulling me close to him, so close I felt his breath on my skin, "it's okay," he let me rest my head on his shoulder, he slowly began to move his head closer to mine, until the tip of our noses touched. The time slowed, my heartbeat raced. He began to slowly tilt his head, leaning in-
"LUNCH!" came a bellow from Gina.