Rose

I swing my arms back and forth as my heels make a clacking sound against the cobbled pathway. Lightly touching the well-bloomed and trimmed red roses, I couldn't help my lips ascending upward into a small smile. Mum used to bring me out to the backyard, tending the delicate orchids and daisies that grew flawlessly. Colours of white and pink sprawled out amidst the neatly cut bushes. Taking in a deep breath, I continue my strode ahead of the brightly lit garden. Amazed such a place even existed and the effort to manage was well written. As I furtherly head towards nowhere, I can faintly hear the gentle piano music playing inside getting further, I could see a home-made wooden shelter(?). Unsure what to call it, it was most-definitely home-made with how oddly some of the wood popping out and mismatched tones of wood. 

There was a large tree right behind it, overshadowing it slightly. I wouldn't have had seen it, if not for how well the whole garden was lit up. I looked behind me, making sure there was no one looking at my childish behaviour and curiosity that I have to fill. Changing my pathway out of the cobblestone, I took off my heels, feeling rather refreshed without the aching. I didn't mind the soil that was most likely and possibly finding its way in between my new-painted toenails. For now, I have one goal. 

It was to see what was inside this mysterious wooden-looking small building.

//

Jisoo

Huffing, when I meant a stronger drink, I meant a 20-year-old whiskey on the rocks. But, out of courtesy over my father, I just got a cold water bottle. Certainly not able to relinquish my thirst and anger, it was what I had and what I suppose I need to work with for now. Until I dig up a bottle somewhere in my father's hidden cabinet. I chuckled over my own thought, without sparing a glance at these businessmen ogling at local actresses and famous well-known models and supermodels that I have yet to pinpoint the main reason they are invited, my feet take me to the usual way down the hallway filled with vintage vases and family portraits hung up proudly on the walls. Scoffing, I make a short turn out of the usual pathway to a white door that leads near the other entrance of the house. Pushing the handle down, reflexively I tapped on the light switch on my right. Quirking my left eyebrow up, this room used to be filled up several different types of shoes categorised according to whose or what not. There were a pair of black old-worn out converse sneakers that I don't remember owning, figured that that would be the only thing that can keep my feet at bay instead of the constant prickling, and scorching feeling of hot coal beneath my feet. I hastily changed into them, holding onto the heels on my free hand, with a swift and quick move I was out into the old garden that was once filled with happy memories. I sighed, wondering why I felt much at peace out here walking to my safe house than being inside breathing in the same air as those people that wanted nothing but business talks and money. 

Walking on the familiar concrete made me reminisce when father would occasionally paster Lisa and I out along with mum for random picnics around 12 in the afternoon. No matter the circumstances; father having an abrupt meeting, or Mum with her pop up posh meetings along with her friends, or even force-calling Lisa at 11 in the morning just to get her here in time. He never takes no for an answer, but then again