Prologue

I wondered if somewhere out there, a planet inhabited by fluffy pandas existed. Not just the typical pandas on television that did nothing but eat and sleep; Pandas that could actually talk and tell you that it was fine to be alone. You were alone, but not lonely. 

The whole room was redecorated by the interior designer who came all the way from New York. Even the comfort room was not spared to his definition of elegance and class. My father started this ritual of revamping the whole house once a year. The designer nodded in approval for he deemed redecorations as a way for a house to replenish from all the negative vibes and of course for money.

“One mistake and you may kiss your luck goodbye,” he said while crossing his arms.

This whole idea of Feng Shui annoyed me. There was something about Chinese that made my blood boil. Thus, I wagered a war with the designer about the revamping of the comfort room. He told me I wasn’t capable of handling stuff such as color schemes and patterns since I didn’t have a diploma in Interior Designing. But if there was one thing I was capable of, that was kicking him back to New York.

Well that piece of paper might as well be the cause of your death.

After several hours of contemplating, he finally gave up and agreed to my idea. That was basically the reason why my comfort room looked like a hub for Pandas. I hated Chinese so I changed the wallpaper to cute and fluffy patterns of sleeping pandas. My tub was in the shape of a panda, well, it was basically white with several black spots and a bamboo for the shower.

Everything was panda-stic.

Until I realized there were Pandas in China.

Please Subscribe to read the full chapter