Loss. ii.

She was done, done with her usual paintings, Every stroke she made with her sable brush spelt out heart break , sadness and loneliness. The paintress, seemed to emphasize more on the brown than the black hue that incorporated one of Leonardo Da Vinci's paintings.

She was still recovering from the incident that happened a few days back. Wounds they say heal, Isabelle wasn't sure if the same would apply to her. The wound was still fresh, and the memories of her mother that lingered everywhere only rubbed salt to the open fresh wound. 

The Thursday clear sky emitted the morning sun rays which reflected in the room. She laid down the sable brushes and pallet on the small stool beside the tripod which held canvas she was using. With a sigh, her eyes fell on the sky and the ray of sun light.

"A silver lining they say, more like silver bullshit." Remembering her mother's scoldings she then said "Bad words, correct yourself Isabelle." She spoke to herself. "more like silver nonsense. that's better". 

Orlando, the butler walked into the Art studio. Not surprised at the paintings that stood before him, his face showed no emotions. Looking at him, one couldn't tell if he was happy or sad, he held a neutral demeanor. Looking at the child that just lost her mother, the terms he could use relating to what he felt for her could be described as 'pity'. He did know how it felt like to loose a parent, but when he lost his , he had reached the stage and age where he learnt to accept things the way they were. It was called the Life cycle.

"Your breakfast is ready Miss". He said with his French accent, waited for a reaction from her which he got and he left the room.

As she made her way down the stairs, she still could find it hard to believe , she was an only child. No siblings, she sometimes wondered why. 

" Mama would've given birth to another one but noooo, she didn't want another child " She muttered under her breath.

To sum it all, it was a great feeling being the only child, a little sad tho but then if she have had siblings, the properties left behind would've been forcefully shared.

A silent breakfast, Something she still learning to get used to. No mom to scold her when she talks with her mouth full or doesn't finish her food. Her mother was against food wastage.

One time when she was served boiled eggplants and tea, she hated the whole idea of having that for breakfast. her initial intentions were to ditch the food and get a snack from the fridge. Her mother couldn't, wouldn't let that happen.

"You either eat that food now or you'll be served with that same food everyday for a week" Her mother said.

" Everyday for a week? I could die, don't you love me mama? you want me to die eating that food. Do you even call this food?" Isabelle looked at the food that almost made her throw up. 

"Well there are lots of people out there who don't have a roof over their head now talk even less of food. but you have both and more so eat em, finish it all"

"Didn't put them in that situation did I?" 

"Isabelle! " Mrs Noel who happened to over hear the conversation going on between mother and child had to interfere. "Be grateful that you are not in that situation, those people there didn't want that situation but they found themselves in it. Now child, eat your food" .

The telephone that sat quietly earlier on a glass table rang, its ringing echoed the room. Isabelle took note of the Butler's swift action in getting the telephone. The long twisted cord hooked beneath the phone served as an intermediary between the phone and the small box which held the numbers to be dialed. 

Her eyes trailed down to eye the glass table, 

basically most of the furniture's were made of glass except the cabinets in the kitchen, for safety reasons.

'could be one of the reasons mama didn't want another child' . Thought Isabelle.

"Mrs Ronnie said she's coming over to take you piano lessons". Orlando said, covering the mouth of the receiver.

Isabelle moved her head left to right slowly repeatedly indicating that she didn't want the woman over. She had a feeling she would come over, some people don't even get the fact that other's need some alone time. 

Come to think of it, who wouldn't want to do a job they were being paid well for, no matter the situation or weather. As long as its money. 

"Miss Isabelle is having a bit of a head ache you see and taking her lessons today might add to it." He said and hunged up, not waiting for her to reply. He had been receiving phone calls like this since yesterday. Still wondering if he should cut off the line. But for Mrs Ronnie he never liked the woman. Her eyes were always all over the place, like she was looking for something to swipe. Once caught her drooling over Mrs Eveline's charmed diamond necklace. Well as the name implies, she probably was charmed by it.

Hearing the beep that came when the phone was hunged made Ronnie curse under her breath.

"The lil brat mother is gone now, she doesn't want me in her house uh?. And the nerve of that butler, how dare he."

Roonie looked around the room she was in, she needed a way to be able to get her hands on money. 

" Where does that witch keep her cheap diamond earnings" she opened her sister's jewelry box, her eyes caught a number of diamond earnings she called cheap.

The only reason she had come over to her sister's house was to steal another of her property and then flaunt it around proclaiming it to be hers. Wanting to pretend like she was in the higher class, fake life and sister's connections got her into parties, where she seductively picked up the money that was thrown everywhere so she doesn't look cheap . She had a feeling she might not be able to get into the Wilton's mansion so she needed to know when was the next party her sister would be attending.

What she didn't know was that she had already giving herself a name in the rich class society, some women called her a Cheap Whore, for all she did was to come to parties, pick up money, flirt with men for their money.

Having had a few jewelries and Earrings she placed the box back on the dresser and walked out of her sister's room with her purse which had the stolen items in it.

"Ronnie, I've been waiting for you, what kept you so long in the bathroom?" Vivian, Ronnie's older sister asked with a glass of wine balanced between her fingers. Legs crossed showing off her thighs due to the dress red dress she was putting on.

"had to touch up my make up" She lied, making her way to sit on the couch beside the Huge mirror that was on the wall. She smiled looking at her face admiring her beauty but the smile faltered as soon as she saw her sister in the background taking a sip of expensive wine. 

The house was much more quieter at night, Isabelle couldn't sleep. She laid awake staring at the ceilings which had some carvings of the fallen angels. 

She admired the work, it was filled with so much details. Sometimes artists make their works look so effortless, but if you can decode the strokes, lines and carvings you would be able to see that a lot of effort was put into this.

One Night, she was woken up by a scream that came from the kitchen. She ran downstairs to see Mrs Noel, Clare and Candice chattering and laughing with cups of tea in their hand. Seems like they didn't know what is going on in the house.

"I thought we were supposed to be grieving, but I see you are happy with her departure". said Isabelle in a low voice. She wasn't happy with the smile that plastered on their faces.

" Isabelle. " Mrs Noel placed her cup of tea on the counter, she was the only one who referred to her without the Miss. " Believe me when I say we are not happy with your mother's death"

"Doesn't seem so. What are you doing now? being happy while drinking a cup of tea" 

"We are drinking tea yes we are, trying to forget about what happened. We cannot bring her back and you know that". Candice said with her voice as soft as it could be.

"Just have some tea to calm your nerves down. There's nothing we can do, only to move forward with our Lives" Mrs. Noel said her hand stretched out a little forward, she held the tea hoping Isabelle would collect it.

But no, she couldn't believe what these people were saying. Forget? did they say I should forget? Did they say I should move on with my life?. She couldn't Believe what she heard. Shaking her head in disbelief she ran back upstairs, slammed the door shut.

Her eyes finally gave up the salty water they've been holding back for quite sometime, she thought she could be strong, strong for her mama.

"Stop crying Isabelle, mama wouldn't wanna see you cry". She said to herself repeatedly.