intro.
[Puzzle p i e c e s. ] (Completed!)
I stood crying, looking at the headstone, remembering bits and pieces of the past that I had with her, my mother. Lily Conrad Louise passed away a year ago due to leukemia. The last time I saw her face was at the hospital. She looked frail and pale, like a zombie. I could recall correctly that she had last braided my hair and told me that she would be alright, that she was going to be okay. But my mother lied. You weren't okay. You knew that you didn't have much longer to live. Why did you have to suffer all by yourself? This brought out another string of tears. I sniffed, my nostrils filled with snot. If only my mother was still here...
My father, Timothy Ryan Jonah stood before me, looking at the tombstone also, probably remembering those times when she was still here. After a very long minute, Tim finally spoke up, "let's go Cera." I followed him quietly toward the curb to our maroon-coloured Lexus RX 350 Hybrid SUV. We drove out the long narrow road, away from the cemetery. I looked out the window towards the hazy, gray, clear sky. Dark clouds started forming, issuing snow. It was sure chilly out, even inside the car. I the heat by myself as I tugged onto my cream-coloured wool coat. My feet was substantially cold from standing outside far too long. "Do you want a burger?" My father asked. We passed an array of fast food restaurants. I should be hungry considering the fact that I haven't even touched my brunch this morning but I hesitated. I wasn't in any mood to eat. "You sure?" My father looked worried. Without another word, he parked in front of Wendy's, my favourite fast food restaurant, to go buy me something. How caring while I was so ruthless. I wanted to stay in my bedroom the whole day without dinner, and cry myself to sleep. But that was no way to go. My mother would've wanted me to continue life and live my life to the fullest. She didn't want to see me sad. My father returned surprisingly quick with a takeout paper bag in one hand. I didn't resist to eat anymore and bit into my cheeseburger, filled with renewed inspiration.
After arriving home, I decided to continue on with my sketches of my room. I was thinking of creating a sketchbook filled with different themes for my bedroom. The first sketch I made was done a week ago. I drew my room as how it is. We moved into this new house before my mother started staying at the hospital. I didn't have much time the past many months to even start decorating the plain space. All there was in this spacious room was a bed in the middle of the room with pale pink bedsheets, two matching white bed stands, a small couch, a T.V., a bookshelf, a plain bathroom, and a workspace. The first theme I decided on was Victorian. Lots of white, black and purple and possibly some shades of gray; classic chandeliers, the Victorian print, velvet; a Barcelona-tufted headboard for the bed, buttons, silk, subtle bordering, lace; candelabra, jewels, and some classic items such as a grandfather clock or an antique telephone. This was slightly ironic since my father looked after N.O.Vative Technologies, a company that produces new, modernized technologies. This company was famous for creating its first ever, air-powered car. I was always at peace at drawing. Mainly drawing interior designs, anything to do with homes and sometimes gardens. I found my calling that day when I was around ten years old. I was flipping through random channels until I settled onto a Design D.I.Y. show. It was about designing a room by yourself but with tips and tricks from experts. The channel also had other shows like Design Inc., a company which comes over to design a room at your house how you want it. It was then that I kept tuning in every Friday at three o'clock, channel eighteen to watch it. I slowly created my sketch. I started with the bed. It was the first thing you see when you walk into the room. I continued on with the rest of the furnishings that I wanted in the room. I, next started the details. The wallpaper, curtains, rugs, mats, every little thing that fitted with the theme. One hour passed, two hours passed and I was still furiously drawing, my eyebrows knitting together when I made a mistake or when something didn't look right. There was a lot of shading also and pencil smudges, blackening the page and my hands. My writing finger started growing a wart-like bump. After I finished erasing all my smudges, I was finished. My new white eraser looked like it was used for years now and my pencil was dull. I was completely satisfied with my results. The next theme, I thought, would definitely be something less detailed. My finger throbbed. Maybe modern...?
I chewed slowly, enjoying my plate of dinner. Our cook made us fresh, lemon-squeezed shrimps on kabobs and some salmon. For appetizers, she made some Japanese California rolls, which we finished off completely. Miss Ferguson washed the dishes, a sly smile on her face, content that we were enjoying the food she made. My father couldn't cook, what with his nose buried into blueprints and designs and the computer everyday. My mother couldn't cook either. Our family would probably die if we were left with some rice, a cooking pot and a can of beans on a deserted island. We couldn't even start a fire. What poor survival skills we had. I smiled at the thought of this and cursed myself as I reminded myself of mother.
My father, Timothy Ryan Jonah stood before me, looking at the tombstone also, probably remembering those times when she was still here. After a very long minute, Tim finally spoke up, "let's go Cera." I followed him quietly toward the curb to our maroon-coloured Lexus RX 350 Hybrid SUV. We drove out the long narrow road, away from the cemetery. I looked out the window towards the hazy, gray, clear sky. Dark clouds started forming, issuing snow. It was sure chilly out, even inside the car. I the heat by myself as I tugged onto my cream-coloured wool coat. My feet was substantially cold from standing outside far too long. "Do you want a burger?" My father asked. We passed an array of fast food restaurants. I should be hungry considering the fact that I haven't even touched my brunch this morning but I hesitated. I wasn't in any mood to eat. "You sure?" My father looked worried. Without another word, he parked in front of Wendy's, my favourite fast food restaurant, to go buy me something. How caring while I was so ruthless. I wanted to stay in my bedroom the whole day without dinner, and cry myself to sleep. But that was no way to go. My mother would've wanted me to continue life and live my life to the fullest. She didn't want to see me sad. My father returned surprisingly quick with a takeout paper bag in one hand. I didn't resist to eat anymore and bit into my cheeseburger, filled with renewed inspiration.
After arriving home, I decided to continue on with my sketches of my room. I was thinking of creating a sketchbook filled with different themes for my bedroom. The first sketch I made was done a week ago. I drew my room as how it is. We moved into this new house before my mother started staying at the hospital. I didn't have much time the past many months to even start decorating the plain space. All there was in this spacious room was a bed in the middle of the room with pale pink bedsheets, two matching white bed stands, a small couch, a T.V., a bookshelf, a plain bathroom, and a workspace. The first theme I decided on was Victorian. Lots of white, black and purple and possibly some shades of gray; classic chandeliers, the Victorian print, velvet; a Barcelona-tufted headboard for the bed, buttons, silk, subtle bordering, lace; candelabra, jewels, and some classic items such as a grandfather clock or an antique telephone. This was slightly ironic since my father looked after N.O.Vative Technologies, a company that produces new, modernized technologies. This company was famous for creating its first ever, air-powered car. I was always at peace at drawing. Mainly drawing interior designs, anything to do with homes and sometimes gardens. I found my calling that day when I was around ten years old. I was flipping through random channels until I settled onto a Design D.I.Y. show. It was about designing a room by yourself but with tips and tricks from experts. The channel also had other shows like Design Inc., a company which comes over to design a room at your house how you want it. It was then that I kept tuning in every Friday at three o'clock, channel eighteen to watch it. I slowly created my sketch. I started with the bed. It was the first thing you see when you walk into the room. I continued on with the rest of the furnishings that I wanted in the room. I, next started the details. The wallpaper, curtains, rugs, mats, every little thing that fitted with the theme. One hour passed, two hours passed and I was still furiously drawing, my eyebrows knitting together when I made a mistake or when something didn't look right. There was a lot of shading also and pencil smudges, blackening the page and my hands. My writing finger started growing a wart-like bump. After I finished erasing all my smudges, I was finished. My new white eraser looked like it was used for years now and my pencil was dull. I was completely satisfied with my results. The next theme, I thought, would definitely be something less detailed. My finger throbbed. Maybe modern...?
I chewed slowly, enjoying my plate of dinner. Our cook made us fresh, lemon-squeezed shrimps on kabobs and some salmon. For appetizers, she made some Japanese California rolls, which we finished off completely. Miss Ferguson washed the dishes, a sly smile on her face, content that we were enjoying the food she made. My father couldn't cook, what with his nose buried into blueprints and designs and the computer everyday. My mother couldn't cook either. Our family would probably die if we were left with some rice, a cooking pot and a can of beans on a deserted island. We couldn't even start a fire. What poor survival skills we had. I smiled at the thought of this and cursed myself as I reminded myself of mother.
-- Bad story, but I really liked the plot I thought up so enjoy...? --
- Chanelliooss ,
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