[COMPLETED]
We are all messed up inside our heads.
Jewel's parents always told that, her whole world was just a twisted figment of her imagination. Is that really true? Come along on her journey as she discovers who she truly is.
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YOUR POV
DAY 54
The day is warmer today.
It's 6 in the morning and I haven't even had breakfast yet since, I've just finished taking Pixie out for a walk.
I look down at the puppy who is now sleeping cuddled up in a blanket which I had put out for it. Pixie looks really cute.
I go and lie down on my couch as well and close my eyes.
I try to fall asleep but I'm not able to. I try to start dreaming so that I eventually drift of to sleep.
"Here you go ma'am!"
A stranger gifts me a parcel and I have a huge smile on my face.
I seem to be in a park. There are Cherry Blossoms everywhere and I hear Song bird singing a familiar tune.
"Thank you ever so much!" I say to the stranger as I take hold of the parcel.
The stranger winks an eye and then turns into air.
I place the parcel onto the soft grass which has been decorated with beautiful petals of pink.
I open my parcel and inside lies a combo burger meal...
I carefully take it out the burger from the box and take a small bite.
My eyes shoot open and I sigh.
I'm hungry now. Why do most of my every day dreams consist of food?
I get up and go to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast.
I make a quick omelette and practically inhale it down.
After washing my dishes, I go to my bedroom. I sit on my bed whilst hugging a pillow.
I feel a headache coming on and I groan.
I start drawing patterns with my fingers on my bed sheet and find myself sulking. I have a thought which I'm not able to push out.
My mom was the one who thought me to make an Omelette and my father was the one who would always eat them. When I was little, I used to insist on making breakfast.
I feel empty. I know that I was never too close to my parents and that they did all sorts of horrible things but I still find a small part of me wanting to just go back to them and help them change their ways. I am the daughter of two criminals...it's kind of depressing.
I pull a strand of hair behind one of my ears and start humming the tune the birds in my dream were singing. It hits me that this very tune which I was humming was a lullaby my mom would sing for me to go to sleep.
I guess no matter how much I hated my parents, I can't deny that I won't feel bad for them getting caught by the police. I wonder how long their sentence would be.
