The gaudy crammed flowery pattern on my grandmother’s wall rode a sense of nostalgia within my nerves and took me back to the times of my childhood odysseys.
The unimaginable sensation skimmed through me as I silently sat in the far-right corner of the room; where no one could find me due to the concealment of the tall stacks of books. I sat there with my favorite teleporter ‘Hemingway’ and slid open the book which sedated my mind and soul.
The walls acted as a camouflage from the other rooms that were filled with mirth and joyousness even after my ma’s demise. I couldn’t feel the mourning atmosphere, rather, there was a night party planned graciously by my papa and stepmother.
I knew from the very beginning that the visit would turn out to be exasperating; the high-pitched laughs of my step-sisters whilst fondling with men older than papa irked me to an extent that made me gag within my mouth. I could see my step-mother surrounded by aristocrats, slyly caressing their cheeks and consciously complimenting them when papa wasn’t around.
Next to her, I saw a petite little girl in the corner reading the all-time masterpieces by Scott Fitzgerald ‘Tender is the night’. She intrigued me. I was curious about why a young innocent girl was among such vile humans. I could see all of this through the keyhole which separated me from the vermin, however, the perspective I could see from that keyhole would be different from what my papa, ma, step-sister or grandma would have seen; because my eyes were made for deceit.
Embroidered Tails 