He took one whole minute to open the door. His hands were shaking so he spent one whole minute putting the key in its lock. I was starting to get annoyed with how scared he seemed to be.
I look at my mum to see if he is feeling what I am feeling but she is smiling.
This is some kind of punishment. She is trying to tame me. She is seeing that I am losing myself and she is trying to bring me back. But how possible was it for her to tame me with someone that reminded me so much of the one who made me wild in the first place?
We got into the library and God it was huge. As a Catholic I've been to the Library's of priest but never had I been to a library like this.
It had eight rolls up and six rolls down and each was filled to the brim with books. A glass table and three black chairs where in the middle of the room.
Sofas laid on the side of the wall behind us. Every single thing in this room was painted ash, like every single thing. The rug, wall, chairs, except things that can't be painted.
There were more painting's than sculptures here, Mostly landscape drawings and flowers. One painting stood out from every other painting. it was the painting of a boy drowning under water, the painting was so real I got lost in it.
Any one who painted it must have been feeling a lot of pain. It was too painful to see but I didn't remove my eyes. Pain is a necessary feeling.
There was a piano at the side and a violin on the table. He's a fan of music too, I guessed.
"You can both sit." Jose said motioning to the chair in front of us
"Thanks." My mum says.
"Thanks." I murmur.
We both sat first with Jose sitting last, he looked unsure of whether he should sit or stand.
How did he become a priest more like how did he survive seminary school like this. He was so scared.
He behaved like an overgrown baby.
"I know father Jacob must have informed you that my daughter over here will be staying here for now due to some very unfortunate circumstances which is beyond my control thanks to the countries raging madness."
"Yea it is indeed a sad thing all this enmity between the south and the north is making everyone anxious."
"Exactly!" My mum supports him with a high pitched voice. "Exactly. and my daughter here_ Her safety comes first and right now I don't think she's going to be safe anywhere else due to my rising status. Father Jacob has spoken so highly of you and I hope this is not an inconvenience to you." My mum explains. "If it will inconvenience you in anyway don't hesitate to decline I can easily find another alternative."
She stops speaking to get Jose's reply.
She keeps her gaze steady on Jose but Jose kept shifting his eyes. He was squirming. I didn't want to think that he is scared of my mum so if he wasn't scared of her who was he scared of?
His fear was becoming annoying and unsettling. We made eye contact once and he looked away blushing.
It suddenly occurred to me that I won't be tormenting him, he will be tormenting me.
"Its no inconvenience Ma." Jose finally replied. My mum breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you very much father thank you, we are devoted Catholics and my daughter here is a very good girl an angel even. I know she won't disturb you and she will obey you. She can be stubborn but its always for a good cause but please don't take any of her attitude to heart. She has been through a lot in recent times."
I fought the urge to laugh. Excuse me but obedience is not in my dictionary never was.
Jose smiled slightly. He did believe everything my mom said. How innocent was he.
I feel sorry for him he has no idea what he just signed up for.
"Yes, Father Jacob has spoken so much about her. He says she is really good and obedient. I will take his word for it since he is your parish priest. He is also a very good man. He is like a father to me." Jose adds.
In other not to worsen my already bad mood I shifted my eyes to something of interest to me. The paintings. I started to remember how I always wanted to be painted like an angel. I immediately shifted that dream to the corner of my mind. They were no longer part of me.
The part of me that longed for silly dreams like that was a fool. A big fool and she paid the price of her foolishness in full.
"Father, this paintings are really nice did you buy them___ " I ask.
My voice came out hoarse a sign that I was extremely tired and bored. But I wanted to say something, anything to take me away from the misery I was feeling. I didn't also want to be alone or I might feel tempted to call my therapist.
"No I didn't__"he answered blushing
I cocked my head to the side raising my eyebrows in obvious confusion.
"I didn't buy it because I painted them." he added.
"You painted them "I asked surprised but impressed.
"Yes I did, every painting in this house was painted by me. It's my escape___" he stopped talking, sadnesses evident in his eyes.
"They are really nice." I say with a smile.
"Thanks." He blushes. "Your compliment means a lot to me."
I nod and look away from him. Now I knew never to judge a book by its cover. "You know one day I would love to paint." I murmur to myself.
I close my eyes and remember who I told this same thing to before. My love. I missed him so much. Suddenly I didn't care if he had lied to me or not, I wanted him back. I needed him back.