“You do not have any knowledge of writing?” I asked Little Ivy.
“No Missy, Perhaps I find it a very trifle matter,”
Yes Sir, I found it quite hilarious as well though I was soon met with her expression as she felt quite sure about her words.
“Oh Young Lady, it is a matter of such importance, What will you do in case you are required of your writing skills?”
“I suppose my mouth works fine instead of my writing,” Well a Very honest answer yet awash with her stupidity, perhaps it was an answer of endeavouring herself with satisfaction rather than having a toil of learning.
“I know Ivy, you have the urge to learn writing, Am I right?” I was met with silence though I acquired that as a Yes.
“Well, I may help you in this regard,”
“Really? Will You Help Me?” I was in avail to find her preposterous act quite satisfactory as she expressed her interest in learning the skills with those words.
“Yes, I will help you but first you must learn to say please and show your gratitude,”
I was met with no response yet a huff and her redundant to say the certain word.
“Very well then, Let me go at once,” I rose yet was I disturbed when she interposed.
“I want to learn,” I turned and looked at her.
“I am tired of such nuisance and I am tired of these kids. They never let go of one thing that they are superior to me,”
“Well for my assistance You must say the words,” I was able to allay her impertinent self for a moment as she elicited the words.
“Well, Will You Please Help me?”
“There Look, You seem cute when you talk in that manner,”
“Enough of your wheedling Missy and teach me how to write.”
And that’s how I began to provide lessons to Little Ivy or I must say that’s how my relationship grew deeper with her. Now Sir, Let me not acquire much time of yours, and let me come straight to the important matters.
One Day I was so accustomed to her lessons that I forgot that Winston had asked for my presence, Perhaps it was a day when he was in awe to start his painting but when my conscience got the better of me I provided a task to Little Ivy and hurried to his room. I was one and a half hours late already so I hurried my foot, with no expectation of finding Winston yet I held my confidence high and reached his room. It was vacant, I ascended to his painting room and was met with his smile, he held his patience for me.
“You are so late,”
‘Oh Pardon Me, Little Ivy had held me off,”
“Do not matter, Come take a seat,”
I was quite impressed with what he had made of the room, it was entirely different from when I was present last time, swept off of any dirt and enlightening with his hope of a very prosperous painting.
“Now, Sit down against me,” I obliged, he ordered me to have myself in a pertinacious position to satisfy his needs.
“There, now have a smile for me please,” I obliged once again and smiled. He hastened to commence his work though I had already informed him that I would be only 20 Minutes for his admiration of painting every day and then I would be gone and he concurred with my request. I stayed still in a specific position for nearly 20 Minutes, he found himself quite contented with his painting as he freed me, I rose and readied myself to go about my day then he interposed me.
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“You have a very gorgeous smile, I am glad that I have preferred you as my painting motivation,” his eyes enlightened with such raptures and fascination, perhaps I considered it as for myself.
“Have a Nice Day Mister.” I smiled and left the room, his words and his behavior I suppose were too much for a recluse girl like me, pardon me if I am wrong but it was nothing less than a flirt in my eyes and it gave me so much rapture for the day that it soon became quite a nuisance for myself that I had diverted my attention from any important matter for the rest of the day.
At Night even I was of no avail to array His Flirty smile and his eyes as I found myself disturbed during Little Ivy’s Studying Time, she had finished the provided task and had shown it to me, ‘Sunday is my favourite.’ I asked her to write it 10 Times and I must say her writing style had a resemblance, not only resemblance but a lot of people may fall flat to differentiate her writing from mine.
“I asked you to write it in your style but there you only copied me, every bit of word and its style as well, this way you will not improve,”
She evinced no words while she stood still.
“Write something else dear,”
“Something else? Like What?”
“Write a little about yourself that way you will not get to copy my style and it will help you to build your own,”
She concurred and commenced to write while I sat still, surveying the elements outside the window, the grass as it rattled against the breeze, and a Dog wandering round the garden. I spotted Winston, he had taken a minute off for a session of Cigar, he smoked and surveyed the dried grass. I could still remember his facial expression and his eyes when he caught a hem of my presence, I quickly averted my eyes but his remonstrance leering forced me to steal a look once again and when I did I saw his lugubrious eyes muttering the pang reaction, he gestured towards me with his hand, though some may fail to evince the meaning of his little smile yet I accustomed it as he was attempting to deliver some mournful words.
”There Missy, I have completed what you had asked,”
‘I am Ivy though I had not intended to be called by this name yet I find trouble to announce this to anyone, I have very high intelligence, perhaps that’s what I like to think. If you wish to speak further in regard of me then you must come and have a conversation with my real self!”
Now Sir, her words were awash with no control and she expressed only her frustration but the main subject of fascination was she had not deserted my writing style and that I found it quite pointless for I had given her the task just for that purpose only.
“Ivy What Have You Done?!”
“What?!”
“I had not asked you to describe your nuisances,”
“I did not know what to write,”
I grew frustrated once again but then I beheld a child who for sure had not a single care for the world and perhaps this very little non-engaging creature had held no knowledge in regard of herself.
“But You are Stealing my Writing Style,” said I.
“So? What Is The Matter in that?”
I grew tired once again and I dismissed her as it was the time for kids to have dinner. I looked out of the window once again but this time I was met with the vacant of any such presence besides the Empty Ground and the dried Grass.
Mr. Garret rose with a mild headache, though he was enlightened by seeing Eleanor beside him yet the array of thoughts regarding the fear and subject of his nightmare had him in an indefinable consciousness of what The Future May Hold. He surveyed the little shut eyes of Eleanor before her eyelids ascended, Her face was towards him and she yawned and rubbed her eyelids, she frowned her arms so sternly.
“Good Morning Sir,” her sweet lips muttered the words.
“I suppose you should let the sir term behind now,”
“Yes sure,” she rose with a little smile on her cheeks and leered onto Mr. Garret as if she was in the intention of elicit the reasonable answers, perhaps regarding The Struggle of last night.
“My Love, Do I have your yes to call you that?”
Her words had given him quite a lot of satisfaction.
“If you love me then sure,”
She smiled and her fingers ran through her laudable hairs, her lips wet as if it was provoking Mr. Garret to have a taste yet he managed to contain his sly manner.
“We must move forward from this obscurity topic and have talks for an important matter,”
“Sure,” said Mr. Garret.
“Perhaps if you have any response for the question regarding your act of the last night then I will appreciate knowing that,”
Mr. Garret let out his breath and her amusing manner had exhausted him to come with honesty as he felt she had deserved to know.
“I was encouraged by a past tragedy,”
“Enlighten me then please,”
“I will evince everything to you but I have no knowledge of how will I do it?”
“What Do You Mean? Perhaps if you are under a pretence of dark magic then you must inform me,”
“Oh No, No it is nothing like that,”
“Then What is it?”
Mr. Garret took his time before he could whisper a word yet when he was in awe of thinking the experience, he met with such trauma that had sent a shiver through his spine, the fact that he was indeed in such immense pang that resemblance with guilt and fear only and perhaps he was in conscious of such negative thoughts that he felt as if those feelings will never desert him.
“I---- I have been hurt in the past,”
“From What?” resumed Eleanor, “You can tell me anything dear,”
Mr. Garret stared at her, wondered if she had acquired his trust or not, perhaps he was blind to his love and her sweetness and so he proceeded to talk.
“Eleanor, I had murdered someone in America!”