A Calling

Chapter 8 - Purity

Hey! I'm the protagonist here! Honestly, who does this guy think he is, stealing my monologue like that...

This kid is ridiculous, I know that what happened was pretty traumatic for some students, however I can't help but break into hysterics. Christopher seemed shocked at my sudden outburst of laughter, my dark brown eyes welled up with tears and I found that I could no longer compose myself. I don't find amusement in anything, why...why am I laughing?

When I had finally come to my senses, I could feel my face flushing a warm red with embarrassment. As I caught Christopher staring, I felt there was no lasting will to hold back my rage, "What?" I demanded, my tone severe and brash, once again that look of pity that I so despise had crossed his face, "You.. You don't believe me do you?" Chris questioned sounding disappointed, "You were being serious?" Damn, I guess the incident at the cafeteria hit him harder than I thought..."Okay, we're done here, you've wasted my time long enough." 

I slowly arose from my chair, not bothering to put it away, Chris sighed for a second as I walked past him, he stayed sat in silence, poor guy... Well he's not my problem. "Jake! Please! Wait you have to understand!" My hand already resting on the cold, metal door handle, I exhaled deeply before turning once again to face him, he was now stood at an angle, as if he stopped midway through walking towards me, his ocean blue eyes looking deeply into mine, his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite get his words out, I spoke with sympathy, although in truth I didn't care, he is wasting my time,  "Goodbye Chris, get some sleep when you get home, its been a long day..." And with that, I turned again and found myself In the hallway once more, only this time the crowds and masses of busy students had seemingly vanished. Oh no! Checking my phone for the time, the illuminated screen had revealed that it was 14:15pm, indicating that Christopher and I had been talking for one hour and forty seven minutes. 

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Taking out my key from the inside pocket of my worn leather jacket, I unlock the dark wooden door. The cold metal handle creeks as I twist it slowly, cautiously awaiting Arthur to reprimand me for making Mr Carson wait outside for an hour. Tap, tap, tap.... My black leather worker boots moved softly against the laminate, hm, still no Arthur. Getting my hopes up as I wander into the warmth of the kitchen, disappointment makes its self known by revealing that Mr Nightingale is by the tall doorway, damn, he must've been waiting for me... "Well?" He inquired irritably, his tone bitter, cold, accusing,

"Well what?" I glared at him threateningly, why should he have a say in what I'm doing? Arthur seemed shocked by my blatant arrogance and rudeness, I don't have the time and effort to step around him like a lion in a rusting cage, he bites I bite back, that's how it is, "I'm sure you are well aware. Don't you dare use that tone with me, boy!" He commanded me as if I were actually his son, how nice considering that he thinks I am a burden to him and that he wants nothing to do with me, yes, I've read his mind on multiple occasions, 

"Why must Mary insist on caring for anyone but me?"

"He is nothing but a useless child."

"How dare she burden me with this?"

"I will not waste any money on unwanted orphan trash like him!!"

Now, I know what you were thinking before, without reading your minds. Arthur isn't this way because Mary died, he's always been the bitter, spiteful old man that you see today. Arthur is a cold-hearted miser who despises anything that does not involve money. The cold within him, though we have no relation by blood, has somehow frosted inside of me also. Arthur is 57, as of four months and 9 days ago exactly on 6th January, 'the month of beginning', although in this case, I guess Arthur's only interest in a beginning would be the beginning of a company alliance. 

Arthur folded his arms, I can smell the intensity of his 'L'eau Serge Lutens' Aftershave from around the gleaming white collar of his shirt, of which was held captive by a neat, navy blue tie to match his suit of the same colour. Not a single, grey hair out of place. He kept his distance yet he still managed look down on me, despite my being ever so slightly taller, his lifeless grey eyes boring into my soul. I see... He thinks he can intimidate me, but he should know by now that it will not work. I refused to back down, regardless of the outcome, spitting out my words of which were laced in hatred, behind them a sickening, monstrous growl, "I know what you think of me, but I assure you, I can be a hell of a lot worse." Speaking through my teeth, I felt my hands quivering by my sides, what's happening? My heartbeat hammered in my chest, I could hear it as though it were attempting to escape my body, I had to retreat, "I'm going to my room." I informed Arthur, "I don't expect you to return for dinner." He responded, a slight sense of gloating in his tone. Damn...