บท 1373: Chapter 933: Deep in the Misty Rain (Part 8)_2
"All right, my dear Princess, time for your violin practice. The saying that the violin is a key to unlocking the doors to the aristocracy holds some truth. You practiced for only 5 hours yesterday. Today, make sure you practice for 6 hours, okay?"
The woman led Little Pamela into her bedroom and handed her the violin, saying, "You start practising here, I'll prepare something to eat. But before that, play me what you learned from yesterday's lesson first..."
Catwoman, hiding under the bed, could only gauge Little Pamela's movements from her shadow, however, from the pace of her movements, she seemed somewhat hesitant.
But after a while, Little Pamela still picked up the violin and began to play. Her mother, watchful with the sheet music, frowned at the first poor note produced by the friction of the bow on the strings.
Little Pamela halted immediately. Catwoman watched as her arm trembled; the next note rasped like a saw—to the woman's ears, more jarring than nails on a chalkboard.
"What on earth are you doing, Ashley! How could you play like this? I've spent thousands of dollars hiring the best tutor for you! Didn't you say you mastered it in yesterday's class?!!"
Trembling, Little Pamela took a step back, her eyes welling up again. The woman, visibly distressed, snatched the violin from Pamela and tossed it onto the bed, smashing the violin on the floor. "Why are you crying?! If you didn't learn it, why didn't you tell me?! I paid for the tutor to teach you clearly!"
"I've paid so much, yet you've learnt nothing. The same pieces have been taught over three lessons already, why would other children only need one? Ashley! You're deliberately defying me! You want to drive me mad! You're just like your father..."
The frustrated woman picked up the violin bow and hit Little Pamela on the arm. Little Pamela shrieked in pain and wept, retreating to a corner. Just when Catwoman was about to intervene, the woman ceased her outburst, and, sobbing, hugged Little Pamela and said:
"It's all my fault... I shouldn't have hit you. But your father abandoned us, and one day, you will return to that class, living the wealthy life like your father and the people around him..."
"You must refine your skills and constantly strive for ascension instead of ending up like me, young and naive, deceived. Pamela, you're all I have. Please learn to play the violin well, plate the piano, attend gatherings..."
"Don't talk about roadside dirt and grasses at these gatherings, as they won't like such things. You'll be excluded, looked down upon, made fun of for your humble background, just like me."
"In the end, those who claim to love you will also abandon you, due to your ignorance, foolishness, and innocence. You can't continue down my path..."
The woman wept while hugging Little Pamela. When she bent down, Catwoman was able to see half of her face. It was surprisingly young, yet her voice echoed a deep sense of worldliness, similar to the friendly faces Catwoman had seen in the narrow alleys of Gotham.
After the woman left, Little Pamela began playing the violin again. Even though Catwoman lacked sophistication in music, she could tell that this little girl did not fancy the violin; her movement was awkward and her whole body radiated resistance.
After a while, the woman opened the door and brought Pamela out. Once they had both left, Catwoman emerged, peeping through the crack of the bedroom door. She thought they were going out, however, they settled down at the dining table instead.
Confused, Catwoman wrinkled her brow as she detected no aroma of food. She was certain her sense of smell was keen enough to sense a meat roast several blocks away.
She opened the crack in the bedroom door a bit wider and stood up to get a better view of the table. To her surprise, there was no meat and moreover, none of the dishes steamed with warmth.
In front of Little Pamela was a small bowl of salad and two cheese and cucumber sandwiches, while in front of the woman were nothing but three fruits.
"What the hell?!" Catwoman mumbled to herself so quietly that only she could hear, "They can't be just eating this, can they? My god, they're going to starve themselves to death!"
Then she heard the woman say, "Pamela, don't make that face, you should know that this is for the protection of our planet. We cannot consume those poor little animals anymore."
"That's right, tell your classmates that you're a vegetarian because you're kind-hearted and cannot bear to see animals being harmed. You're an environmentalist, right?"
"Perhaps, you can also share with them that your mother is also the same. You're aware that this is the most fashionable diet amongst the wealthy, right? This will certainly earn you some admiration in their eyes."
Pamela sat at the table, poking at her salad with a fork. Then she lifted her face to the woman and asked, "What about plants? Don't they get hurt too?"
Apparently stumped by this question, the woman reluctantly replied, "Animals can run, they can scream, they possess souls, but plants... they simply grow in the soil, immobile."
"Is it that being rooted in one place means they have no soul?" Pamela asked.
"Indeed, if you go and slaughter those animals, they'll scream, shed tears, and cry, but plants don't."
"Maybe plants do too, only that no one understands," Pamela murmured softly. The woman, raising her voice, retorted, "Pamela! You've already upset me several times today! Don't argue with me anymore!"
"You must be a good girl, one who protects animals. This is your key to obtaining entry into high society. Can't you understand that? You need to have common topics with those people to eliminate any awkwardness!"
"I can no longer afford to buy you those expensive jewellery and fashionable dresses in the shop windows, you can only show them that you are not a poor girl hiding in this small rental apartment. You are like them, a rich person, a princess raised by the elite class!"
The woman grew increasingly agitated. She tossed her fork aside, went over to the window, and fetched the small potted plant by the side. Within the pot was a small flower which she said, "I know you gaze endlessly at it. You say the 'plants talk too'. That's crazy nonsense, do you understand?"
"You absolutely cannot say such things in school! If they think you're mentally ill, you're done!... Why are you still looking at it? Why aren't you focusing on my words?!"
"Because.... it seems to be crying...."
"What?!!!"
Furious, the woman smashed the pot on the ground, scattering soil and revealing the plant's roots.
She picked up the broken potsherds and started smashing the stem of the plant, screaming, "Look! See?! Plants don't talk, they don't react, there's nothing about plants that need protection because they just don't have souls!!"
However, Little Pamela wore a terrified expression. She burst into tears and, pointing at the small plant, screamed.
"It's crying! It's crying! It...it's angry!"
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