Finding The Carrot King

Chapter 2

Emma's POV:

As soon as I saw the family car drive out of the driveway, I felt as if a vast weight had been elevated off my shoulders. I started exhaling through my nostrils.

They were gone for 2 hours... but what could I do during that time? I used to fantasize about these moments when I could be alone; but as soon as it comes, I'm in a dilemma.

So much to do, so little time..

"Emma?" Mrs. Johnston baptized from the kitchen.

Mrs. Johnston had been the family's housekeeper for years. She knew about the relentless beatings and abuse, but my mother had paid her to keep her lips sealed. Her sympathetic looks would pierce straight through me after every new cut and bruise. I know she didn't like keeping it to herself, but she needed a job; so she kept discreet.

"Yes ma'am?" I gulped.

Mrs. Johnston leered at me. "You don't have to be reserved around me... Keep in mind, I'm on your side."

I gave her a sincere grin, and as if on cue- my stomach gave a shrill rumble.

Mrs. Johnston let out a giggle. "There's some freshly baked lemon squares in the kitchen. Go help yourself, your mother doesn't know I made them, so you'll be alright."

This lightened my spirits. "Thank you so much!"

I arose up from my position on the floor, and smothered out my crumbled shirt. Without reluctance, I proceeded off into the other direction towards the kitchen.

"Don't forget to take a shower!" Mrs. Johnston called from the living room.

I mentally thanked her once again, before rummaging through the cabinets looking for a clean plate. In the end, I decided on a white clean porcelain plate imported from Italy when my mother and father had traveled there.

On the counter was a pile of fresh lemon squares. My mouth was watering, just by looking at them. In almost no time, I was stacking them upon my plate. I hadn't eaten in days, and my stomach was beginning to shrink.

I got a glass of water, as well as a knife and fork and made my way over to the kitchen table. I didn't waste time, and immediately started tucking into my food.

Words couldn't explain how good this tasted. After a long period of time without food, you begin to actually forget how much you adore it.

　

• • •

I stopped counting after eating my twelfth lemon square. Overall, I think I ate about twenty before giving up. My stomach had rumbled in defeat. I would have helped myself to more, but my stomach just couldn't handle that much food at the moment.

I hurled myself up from the chair I was sitting in, and stacked up the plates I had been using. I brought them back into the kitchen, and placed them in the dishwasher, making sure that it looked like that it had been there before.

I almost forgot that Mrs. Johnston had also allowed me to take a shower as well. I almost leaped for joy. Showers weren't a usual thing in my house, so you can imagine my excitement.

I dashed out of the kitchen, and into the hallway where the stairs were located. I placed my frail hand on the banister and started walking upwards. Each step I took had a booming effect that would echo throughout the house.

I walked throughout the hallway on the second floor, until I reached the bathroom. The shower gel my brother uses still had a strong aroma filling the room. I gathered up my shampoo and conditioner from the bottom cabinet, as well as body wash and my razor.

I quickly fetched a white towel and hung it over the railing. I gathered up all of my courage to twist the facets of the shower. Water immediately came thrashing through the pipe and into the bath. I breathed in the hot steam.

I stepped inside, to be greeted by a warm sensation of water hitting my sore muscles. It was perfect.

To fit the mood, I started belting out the lyrics to Demi Lovato's new song, Heart Attack.

- - -

"Emma!" Mrs. Johnson's loud voice ringed through my ears. I internally groaned. She knew how crucial these washings were... so this had to be significant.

"Emma!" She termed again, but more impatient this time.

I turned off the facets, and started to get out of the shower-bath. I wrapped the white fluffy towel around my chest, making a knot to secure it at the top. I quickly whipped my hair back and forth to get rid of any excess water. I didn't bother with anything else-

Mrs. Johnson had seen my worst, and that was far from this. I made my way out of the bathroom, and down the stairs.

In front of me was Mrs. Johnson and a peculiar looking man in a black suit. I suddenly started to get a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"W-What's going on?" I queered.

"Emma... This man is from social services; he's traveled all the way from England." Mrs. Johnston alleged.

My eyebrow rose. Why would anyone travel that far... for me?

"Good evening Ms. Larkin. My name is Mr. Arnold from social services. I was instructed to fly over to the states to introduce myself to you." He justified.

I pondered for a moment. "Please call me Emma; But... why are you here?"

He gave Mrs. Johnson an edgy glance.

"Can somebody just please tell me?" I groaned, flapping my arms to my side.

Mr. Arnold sighed. "Ms.Lar- Emma, I've come to inform you that Mr. and Mrs. Larkin aren't your biological parents." He exploited, getting straight to the point.

I narrowed my eyebrows. At the same time I was exultant that I finally away from this environment, but at the same time nervous to who they might be. "T-Then who is then?"

"Your biological parents are Mark and Johanna Tomlinson."