11. A kid with a temper.

Elena.

The eldest eyed me profusely, almost as if she had her way, she'd chase me as faraway as possible, probably feed me to wild animals even.

I began to look around instead, her room was like a wonderland for comic driven recluses. The walls were a deep red that pulsed in the light, sprinkled with various posters, mostly of strange Japanese cartoon shows. I doubted she could read whatever was written on the poster. Her comforter was pulled over her bed, even though she hadn't cleaned it. The result was lumps of varying sizes and shapes and the comforter was weighed down by her laptop. A desk sat in one corner, littered with wadded up pieces of paper and pens. A few shelves were pushed against the walls and filled with books. Some books sat on the floor in front of the shelves.

"Are you going to keep looking around my room like a fugitive or some spy or are you actually going to speak like a normal person? I mean even if you have nothing to say, you could just simply leave instead of assuming the position of the elephant in the room." She finally spoke up, causing me to adjust uncomfortably.

The girl had a nose like a cartoon character, or one drawn by a lazy artist at least. The bridge was so low-profile as to be barely there at all; so that on a facetypical of skin all the same honeyed hue, her nose was a bump just above her dusky pink lips. There was no two ways about it, she was cute.

From under long culy golden bangs shone eyes the colour of wet earth, and below that a nose so freckled that the brown splotches overlapped much like fall leaves after a wind storm. She was cute but if only she wasn't being such a witch. One that rubs off on her younger brother at that, because he obviously looks up to his big sister and does almost everything she does.

The boy is definitely infinite fun packaged into a tiny human. I could see it dance in his eyes, that sense of mischeif that needs release. So I just have to plan my mirth, putting my creative self to the task at hand for him. I only have to be the creator of fun. That's what little boys are all about. The boy had eyes of pure mischief and a heart of gold; he had that way of moving that honest people do, with the spark of the child and a smile that went all the way through to his core.

The boy was so blond. His hair brought memories of golden wheat fields, of those many hued stems that danced in the autumn light, whispering gentle songs into the wind. He should be easy, I just have to get through to him, without his sister medddling in with her bitchiness.

"Uh... uhm. I'm so sorry about the awkwardness, I'm just not good with people in general much more... uh... kids... and..." I started to say but I was of course interrupted.

"Watch it, lady. There's only one kid here and I'm not one. Moreover, what kind of nanny isn't good with kids? Why didn't you tell that to my dad, uh?" She accused and I realized that I might have said what isn't expected of me.

"No... no! That's not how I meant to put it. You know what, how about we just do a little introduction, I'm uh... Elena? Elena Bianchi. You can simply call me Elena. So what are your names?"

They remained silent and I could almost imagine cricket sounds in the room, instead of any replies, the girl smiled coyly, but then again, it's not as if I have ever seen her smile once. As I stood in front of her, I got the feeling she was staring right through. Her eyes, piercing through my soul, going through all the lies, the secrets and the memories. The way she looked at me was very observant. As if she was studying every single bit of me, until she had an observant picture of me wherever she went. From her behavior, she probably has a photographic memory. Never forgetting a single thing for any reason at all.

"You know, I don't think you’ll last a week as our nanny. I mean, look at you fidgeting and trembling all because you're standing in front of a teenager and a kid. Do you even think you would be able to handle us? Honestly, I'll give you a good advice which is for you to simply get out of it while you can, we don't even want you around, trust me, ugh." She said to me again in that practiced mean tone that she had.

But then, I simply smiled at her remarks while I studied her. The anger from her eyes showed the scared child within, the girl who was taught to fight and starved of the love she actually craved. I could see the pain beneath it and her soul drowning in this persona she'd carved to fit a world of indifference. But I can't help someone like that, not unless the tears come and they realise what's really going on. And I can't fight it, I won't, it takes such a toll on me to do so. The best I can offer her is a void, to let her shadow box until she craves the sunlight and trust me when I say she'll crave it soon, I'll make sure she does.

"I know your names... you're Diego while you're Mia. Such beautiful names for beautiful children. I promise that I'm not here to make anything uncomfortable for you two, I'm just here to be a listener and someone you can confide in... and you can always..."

"Yada, yada, yada. Same ol, same ol. You nannies seem to read from the same old book, it's getting tiring. I can assure you that we've heard this from every single one of our nannies and guess what, hey never live up to what they claim. Ugh... I know you had no choice than to come in here but you can simply leave now, I don't even like having strangers in my room." She said with a lot of eye rolls.

"Uh... okay..." I said as I started to walk towards the door in an awkward manner, she followed suite, probably to close her door.

"If you do need..." I wasn't even able to finish my statement before she closed the door on my face as soon as I was out of the room.

I stared blankly at the door before me before and then sighed, this isn't anything unusual. Show me a kid with a temper and I'll show you a kid in pain. It's the same as those rescue dogs, enough ill treatment and they start acting this way. The only cure is love, patience and kindness, so that's what I will do, I'm going to be here and love them until their storm becomes a welcoming breeze.

It was just day one afterall.