Amara

Chapter 12 - Shopping

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"If only you could see how beautiful you are my daughter, my masterpiece, my creation"

- God

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Amara's POV: Trigger Warning

I wake up from the best sleep of my life. I think the bed is made of clouds. No. I know the bed is made of clouds. I refuse to move. I will never move from this spot ever.

Guuuuurgle

No. I'm not hungry. I'm comfy.

Guuuuuuuuuuurgle

Please. Please be hungry later

GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGLE

OKAY! FINE. IM HUNGRY.

I could have some waffles.

After I finally convinced myself to get out of bed, I headed to the bathroom. I walk in, undressing so I can step into the warm water. I look over at the mirror. My body was bruised. The scab on on my jaw is starting to heal, but the bruise on my eye has gotten just a little darker from when I last looked at it. It's not the hardest I've been hit, but that bitch sure did get me good. The one on my back is the worst. It's dark brown and purple. Two colours that regular skin shouldn't be. Great. I reach my hand back, my touch making me wince.

I eventually get in the shower. Turning the temperature up. But I quickly lower it. My body is not fully used to hot showers. Once clean, I turn the water off and step out, drying myself off with the towel.

I don't remember putting that back.

I walk to my closet. The room was filled with multiple drawers and rows of rails. I walk over to one of the drawers, the only one that has my belongings in it I pick out my cream joggers and a navy top.

I go back into the bedroom, glancing at the large bed that I now miss a lot. I am about to walk out the door when I realise that I don't know where to go, or if I'm even meant to leave the room. I sit back down on my bed. Trying to ponder what to do. I know that if I was still living in Chicago, being late wasn't an option.

I wake up to loud noises coming from downstairs.

"AMAAARAAAAA!" My stepdad screams as he pounds his feet against the wooden stairs.

I scramble out of bed. Looking around for my clothes. But before I can my door swings open, and Luke stands on the other side. "It's 10:30. And I have to come upstairs to wake you up because you're unable to get your sorry ass up yourself?" he screams.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep in. I thought I set an alarm." I replied, still looking around for my clothes.

"Hey! You look at me when I'm talking to you! I have come up here and I'm not even treated with respect. Ungrateful bitch" he said the last bit under his breath. "I'm sorry" I reply in a sheepish whisper back.

"What was that?" He says.

"I...I'm sorry" I say again, more as a question than a statement of apology.

"You making fun of me?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No. I'm not, I swear" my voice now slightly trembling.

Before I can even talk my way out of the situation, I'm greeted with a hard slap across the face. My legs slightly buckle with the impact.

That fucking hurts.