At around sunset, Emilia and her family returned back. Without wasting a second, the young girl dashed to claim hold of her violin and release her emotions. This was her only solace, her only way of expressing her feelings. By scrutinizing the type of music being played, one can get a hint of what she was trying to convey. Words don't necessarily reflect how one feels.
The sad truth is, humans can cry in different ways than just tears. The ruthless whips of wind matched the violent cuts Emilia drew against the music strings, while the gray clouds covered the sky in an endless blanket. The usually calm turquoise ocean was in a fit of anger, thrashing around with its waves, in harmony with the boiling blood that ran through Emilia. She felt the rage burst out of her like a cork popping. The sun had been swallowed up by the thirsty water long ago, but she never stopped. Not until she was empty, devoted of all sentiment like land in drought.
Emilia was so consumed with her activity that she was unaware of the pair of eyes that had witnessed everything. A jolt of surprise suddenly coursed through her petite form; shocking her into freezing in an awkward crouching position. Her lungs, once desperate for oxygen, didn't dare inhale one last breath. Her eyes, once begging for a break, paused wide in size.
"Oh, I am sorry," the stranger said. "I... I didn't mean...to eavesdrop, I j...just wanted to... talk to... you." she stammered in her talk.
"The portrait will be ready after two days as per the contract," Emilia said when she recognized the girl as a member of the group close to the senator's son.
"T....that is not what I am concerned about," the new presence spoke with a nervous tone coating her words and actions as she fidgeted in her position.
"Then you have no reason to be here. I request you to please leave," Emilia replied harshly. The timing this girl appeared at was dangerous; her feelings were so close to the surface.
Like in an autopilot mode, Emilia ignored the individual and went back to her house. The lone girl stood in conflict, she tried to hold her back, to speak to her, but it was evident that the other party had built a blocking wall.
As to avoid further problems, Emilia rushed to put a distance between her and the stranger. Initially, her parents never agreed on interest in music, but as long as she complied with their requests she was left off the hook. That is why she doesn't want a bystander to get caught up in her own problems.
To say the truth, Emilia was worried. She was fully aware of the fact that if her parents were to know of the earlier actions, they were going to perform a strict punishment on her; however, that was not the issue. The problem that her mind was going crazy about is what her parents would do if they discovered the stranger present on their grounds.
Emilia hated being locked up in her room, but she had no choice if she wanted to protect the innocent girl. She endured the cramped room; even though it was vast, it felt like a cage to her. The grim atmosphere was a constant pressure infecting her.
Silent tick-tocks passed until Emilia took a deep breath and decided to invest her time by conducting a beneficial task. She proceeded to the art room that was created especially for her and gathered all the tools she required. A large rectangular canvas rested on the easel, the white surface attracting colors to it. A spectrum of pigments was arranged from the darkest shade to the lightest, all ready to be used. Picking up the brush with her exposed metallic arm, the image in her brain was projected in front of her. Carefully studying the colors that would best fit the painting, the tip of the brush was dancing on the plane.
In the next following days, the ocean didn't get a chance to dance to the music the young girl offered at the fixed timings. It was waiting patiently, eager to hear the soothing sounds, but the girl never appeared.
After three days, Emilia had grown depressed with no work to keep her busy. Her soul withered the more time passed. Despair was engulfing her the longer she stayed confined, and she wanted to break out of the cell called her room.
Without waiting for sunset, the moment her parents were off to their work, Emilia sprinted to refill the air in her lungs. Ignoring her dress, she ran towards the ocean that seemed to call out for her. Taking in full cycles of respiration, the fresh oxygen washed away all the negative feelings that had piled up over the last few days. The waves were cheering happily for her return; they climbed up the sand and strived to get a feel of the girl that usually entertained them.
A chuckle escaped Emilia's lips when the bite of wind nibbled at her figure. She sat there the whole day just staring off into the distance as if having a conversation with nature. If she was to be seen, she would be labeled crazy in an instant. Maybe she was, with all the pain that her parents made their own daughter undergo. Although, for Emilia, as long as she could have a stolen moment like this to enjoy, to restore her energy, she was fine with carrying on the life her parents had molded for her.
When the awaited time had approached, the violin was already positioned in her moving hands, ready to escape into her world. Nature celebrated this joyous occasion by sending its forces to the front line. The blowing wind created a soft rhythm to match the tunes floating in the air. Clouds cleared the way for the sun to add its own touch upon the show. Twinkling lights emitted from the stars acted as a spotlight, focusing on the girl on stage. And the ocean, ever the loving fan, cheered on in its loudest waves; all the while, careful as to not steal the fame from the main star. All listened intently as if to engrave this moment of perfect bliss into their living souls.
The concert was soon over and everyone was spent. Calmness was introduced into the atmosphere and it settled upon everything. Not a single syllable of sound could be heard, so much that if a pin where to be dropped right now, the sound of its impact with the ground would be loud and clear.
A series of claps suddenly resounded in the air.
"That was so beautiful," the newcomer complemented after the show had ended.
Emilia locked eyes with the girl, a shocked expression ghosting her features. "Why are you here again? I believe the portrait has already been delivered." She said in a formal voice that blocked all sorts of side conversations. Emilia stood still; ice seemed to have seeped into every pore of her body.
A slight smile tugged at the female's lips as she responded. "Yeah, I saw it. Thank you, it was a masterpiece."
Emilia's heart skipped a beat at the words she received. The few letters of gratitude had landed a strong blow to her heart, which created a dent in the walls she had built. She searched through her memories of the past if she had ever heard those words of thanks, sadly no data was found.
No words were floating in the air during the next following minutes. Emilia kept watching the black-haired girl in front of her as she kept wringing her hands together, obviously nervous.
With a kind tone that contrasted Emilia's, she spoke. "As I said before, I didn't come here for that..." she strayed off track, hesitancy spreading from her like an infecting virus.
Suddenly, with newfound confidence, she extended her hands. "My name is Jasmine."
Emilia's eyes darted between the girl's extended hand and her eyes, trying to deduce the motives of her actions. Memories of her parent shaking hands with other people suddenly flashed before her and an uneasy feeling spread through her nerves.
When she decided to return the practice; however, Jasmine tucked her shaking hands behind her back and averted her gaze to the ground. This performance left Emilia baffled. Why extend your hand only to pull it back later? She thought.
"The scenery in this place is magical, and your music adds so much color to this painting," Jasmine broke the awkward silence that had diffused between them yet again, "that is why I came here again."
Emilia agreed with her without the use of words. She simply held her head up and soaked the alluring nature that surrounded them. Beauty is quite, like a stone statue presenting itself to the world. An admiring look glimmered in her yellow eyes; it reflected the twinkling stars in the sky. A similar look was present in Jasmine's blue orbs, which created a sort of delicate connection between the two.
"You shouldn't be here," it was Emilia's turn to cut the peace. Her sentence was regarded with a confused expression that took over Jasmine's face.
"It is not safe for you," was all that she said and with her elegant dress dancing behind her, Emilia made her way back to the castle.
The girl protested, attempting to run after her. "B...but wait!"
The desperate tone forced Emilia's movements to come to a halt. Her back was still facing Jasmine as she waited for her to continue.
"I didn't get your name."
The turn Emilia's body had whipped rivaled the lash of wind at that moment. This simple question was like a bomb that dropped on her, whose destruction was evident on Emilia's face. She didn't bother hiding her expression of astonishment as her heart squeezed painfully.
"W...why ask that when you already know the answer?" She managed to squeeze past her dry throat. Because who doesn't know the girl with a robotic hand?
Shock coursed through her veins; each red blood cell full of bewilderment when Jasmine said the following words. "But I really do not know your name."
An abundance of thoughts crowed inside Emilia's head all at once, making her feel suddenly dizzy.  Didn't she already saw what I am? Isn't that enough to recognize me? Why is she asking for my name anyway? No one calls me by my name anymore; I am either the Art Machine or the Robotic Girl.
A solemn look shadowed Emilia's face as unwanted memories tainted the peaceful atmosphere. The separate world she had created for herself as an escape from all the hardships life kept throwing at her started to crumble because of this new intruder.
After much debate, "Emilia," was all she said and turned away, walking back to the hell hole called home.
Throughout her life, Emilia was never spoken to as a fellow living being. Everyone viewed her as a nonhuman object that had only one purpose. Receiving a fair treatment threatened to melt the stones that had overlapped with time around her heart. A new feeling was fluttering open in her, like a blooming flower but, she couldn't point out what it was. She felt like she was on the same level with someone, not bellow or above, like it is supposed to be, like how it should have been before the world had twisted.