Painting Pigs and Ruining Lives

I will not paint the pig. I will not paint the pig. I will not paint…

The little girl wrote over and over but it was not the writing that annoyed her. She had truly painted the pig, what pickled her goat was that the painting of pigs is apparently a crime. There were many things like that, actions and ideas, that the grownups seemed to believe deserving of punishment.

Lilly had tried many times to be good. It was at one time a very high priority for her. Yet, year after year it seemed to be drawn to the bottom of the list as if pulled by an unseen magical force. You know, like magnets pull each other together. Now, at the ripe old age of thirteen, with long curly blond hair and the first hint of physical changes to her body, being good didn’t even make the list this year. It was replaced with a new priority, redefining what is good.

I will not paint the pig…

Mrs. Anderson, a tall lanky woman with brown hair worn in an eternal bun on the back of her head entered the room leading another woman who smiled as Mrs. Anderson talked. She liked to talk and Lilly was sure the other lady, this newcomer, may have contributed three words to the conversation Mrs. Anderson was having. Lilly watched them from the corner of her eyes as she continued writing.

I will not paint the pig…

“And this is the girl I told you about, she apparently…”

Mrs. Anderson looked down and sequenced her neck in a manner that made her look like a flamingo peering around a corner wall.

“Ahh, painted the pig.”

I will not paint the pig…

Mrs. Anderson never seemed to care about the crime. She did take delight in the punishments. Not administering them mind you. No, that job was the duties of the Head Mistress, Ms. Trever, a soft-spoken and kind woman. Well, when she accepted the interim position, she was kind and patient with Lilly. In the beginning, Lilly exploited that kindness and used her patience as a tool. She learned quickly where the limits were, through personal expiration, and the manipulation of her fellow classmates at Warren Hall Boarding School.

“Ms. Penny. This is our very own evil genus Lilly Sobstop.”

I will not paint the pig…

“Lilly! Pay attention! Ms.Penny will be our new, full time, Head Mistress”

Lilly pretended to jump a little when Mrs. Anderson said her name in that annoying loud sharp manner she often used. Lilly often had to fell something or say something that she didn't feel. She saw, by watching the other girls, how a proper young lady should act. Personally, Lilly thought they were a bunch of sheep. But, she also knew that had to try to fit in, at least somewhat. She didn’t want this boarding school to decide, like the last, it was better off not having Lilly. She thought that is what she wanted at first, but after being home for a couple of weeks, little chance for interacting with others except for the servants drove her batty. She begged her parents to find her another school.

As Lilly lifted her eyes from her deliberately unimportant task she met the eyes of Ms. Penny. Instantly they locked gazes. There was something different in this woman’s eyes, something familiar and dangerous. Her face was soft and really pretty but those eyes seemed, cold. And she knew instantly where another pair of eyes like that was. She would need a mirror to see them.

“It is very nice to meet you, Ms. Lilly”

“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Penny”

It took a lot of effort to hide the disdain for the woman when she said her name. Honestly, her contempt was for the position. She really felt no way about the woman that filled it. The tool does not inspire the artist and only creates by the master's hand. For Lilly that creation was a redefining of good.

I will not pain the pig…

Lilly returned, without emotion, to her writing as she thought to her self.

I will paint that damn pig…