Romans & histoires The Little Old Lady Who Broke All The Rules

Emma poured him some wine, I watched the liquor being gulped. With a finger snap, Ricardo, one of the guards came forward with a black note. Black notes meant Rules and Punishments attached. I stood up with the little strength left, balancing my feeble limbs on the smooth floor surface, my hands massaging my chin to relieve the slap effect. "For having broken two rules-" He read but I cut him off rudely. "I only broke one rule and that's visiting the outside world," I corrected him, my eyes on Eric. What other rule did I break? Deep down, my heart palpitated furiously against my chest. The thought of having committed another crime without knowing made me quaver, visible goosebumps surfaced m

I noticed that it became quiet outside once I said my piece. A few seconds later, a scream rang out, followed by Yvonne's shriek and pounding. "You're a murderer, Caleb! You'll rot in hell for this! There are still people in my apartment! I'll haunt you for the rest of your life if anything happens to them!" I ignored her completely. I turned back to the bed, sat down, and leafed through the protocol book. I could hear the sound of sirens, followed by the roar of the trucks' engines and calls over the intercom, drifting in from outside.

Soon an old man came to her rescue, with a dominating voice he grunted at them forcefully, "You know the rules, don't you?" he said, they both set aside. Though he helped her just now, Myra was startled by seeing the old man. He was the scariest man she would have ever seen. She shivered, and cold sweats cascaded down her body. Stumbling back to her grandma, she stood staring at him when that old man continued, "Now that the goddess is revealed, you have to follow the rules, everybody has a chance" The two beasts smiled again, and one of them snorted sarcastically,

I have just one rule, Jasmine. Right here and now, I froze on the soot, a bit anxious about what his rules might be. "A golden rule, that you must NEVER break.”

The Old Lady put down the porcelain set in her hands and said to Paulina, “Drusilla, our Hollis family is a big family. Outside, everyone who hears of the Hollis family admires us.” Although Paulina wasn’t sure what the Old Lady was up to, she still met her gaze with respect and said, “Yes, the Hollis family is indeed admired by many.” The Old Lady gave a proud nod. “Mm. In families like ours, there are many rules. It’s not that I’m against you—I only wish to offer a word of advice, for your sake and your in-laws’.” Lilian and Gregory both frowned. Paulina remained unfazed. “May I ask what you mean?”

“Violet. Roll. Good dog.” After the dog obeyed, she slapped it across the face. “Miss Violet. Violet really is such a good dog, isn’t she?” Lina laughed sweetly. “Look at this necklace. It suits her perfectly.” Then, she pulled out another photograph from her pocket—a yellowed black-and-white portrait of my mother when she was young. She shoved it onto the dog’s head, grinning with a mix of innocence and cruelty. “Violet, your mother’s back,” she said lightly. “And she’s kneeling at my feet, begging me. Aren’t you happy?”

"Well, I’m sorry if I’m not ecstatic that my daughter is going against the rules. That’s not how I want my child to be, someone who thinks the rules don’t matter, whether it’s art, societal, or business.” “I see what you mean, but these are ridiculous regulations for kids. In my opinion, they are made to be broken, with a creative intent.” "Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking you, then.” She moves towards me, bridging the gap between us, motivated by her temper. "God, you're so bull-headed. So rigid.” I huff, my heart pounding against my chest, and close the final distance between us, looking down at her, looming over her small stature. “Look who’s calling me bull-headed—the woman

I told one of the girls, who was glaring at me like I stole something from her. As I was about to annoy another one – an old woman got in and shouted, "enough ...!' Everyone's head was down, and their eyes were looking at their feet. "To your room … Immediately!" She only needed to speak to them to have them all despair, one after another. I looked at the old lady in front of me. She was not a scary, ugly witch, like the one that appears in horror movies. The opposite, though she seemed old, she was absolutely beautiful.

Bridget stops in front of a door and chimes, “This is the apartment.” Not wanting to watch them any longer, I quickly approach the door. Knock. Knock. Footsteps come rushing to the door. However, when the door opens, a little old lady is standing there. Is this her? I thought she was supposed to be about our age. The little old lady stumbles a bit. “Yes. May I help you?” The woman’s voice cracks as if she has seen better days and is now completely exhausted. I quickly reply, “Yes, ma’am. We are looking….”

The old woman slowly stood up. “Follow me.” The old lady said. Amore and Caity looked shocked at each other. Caity helped Amore up, then leaned toward Amore and whispered, “She speaks English!” They hurried up the steps after the old lady. The lady lived alone in a small three-story house. The old lady stopped at the top floor rummaging through a closet. She took out two pairs of clean clothes handing them to Amore and Caity. Amore and Caity instantly teared up out of thankfulness saying “Thank you” to the old lady at the same time. The old lady just nodded, not saying a word, then walked towards the bathroom.