Picking Up The Pieces

Chapter 1

   

  

CHAPTER 1

"Full of loneliness, this garden bloomed. Full of thorns, I bind myself to this sandcastle."

_________

As the intense sun shone through the small opening of the slightly swaying curtains and the alarm blasting throughout the luxurious room, it was definitely a sign for me to wake up. I grumbled while uttering some profanities and slammed my hand onto the alarm. I swung my legs out of the warm duvet and my brain automatically started my morning routine.

One, take a five-minute shower with the water at 112 F. If it was the day to shampoo, use the rose-scented one, not the almond-scented one mother forces me to use.

Two, dry yourself and also your hair if you had shampooed it. This should take exactly two minutes and thirty seconds and if I washed my hair, drying should take exactly six minutes. No more nor no less.

Three, wear undergarments and clothes that has been prepared by Soora the night before. Whatever Soora had prepared will be in accordance with your preferences.

Four, comb your hair and apply light makeup. ( Makeup- Amber's codename for her cherry-red lipbalm)

Five, the last and the most important step of the morning routine. Enter the walk-in closet and wear a hoodie. The hoodies should be neatly stacked in the fifth shelf's second row. NEVER FORGET THAT THE HOODIE SHOULD COVER YOUR FACE.

As I snapped out of my morning routine instructions that my brain directed me, I checked in my mirror one last time. My soulless reflection in the mirror stared right back to me. My brown eyes, that no longer had the sprinkles of gold flakes it used to have was covered by my beige hoodie. My straight, brown hair was neatly tied was again, nowhere to be seen as it was covered by the hoodie.

"So ugly," a harmony of voices rang through my brain.

At least the hoodie had covered my dark eye bags which was achieved from sleepless nights and my horribly chapped pale lips. I sighed from the fact that the morning had already was filled with such depressing thoughts and glanced away from the mirror. I took a deep breath, hoping to have a good day before I headed out of my room to be greeted by insults from my family.

Everyone was already at the long, black marble breakfast table, eating their food which was cooked by our personal chefs. As the delicious aroma of the food seemed to call out for me, I quickly sat down on my chair, in front of Mom and silently ate my food.

"You're late to breakfast again" Mom said.

"Only 37 secs," I mumbled. This has become a habit of mines, keeping track of time for literally everything.

"You're still late. What do you do when you take over the business and is late to meetings? People will be furious at you," Mom screamed but subtly.

"Mom, you know she's like that at school right? She always late to classes. I've heard from some of my friends at her school," my sister sneered and smirked.

My grip tightened on my spoon as my sister continued to "tattletale" about me. I shot a glare at her but she wasn't intimidated by it and instead she gave me a smirk. She succeeded in getting something out of me. Things have changed after the "incident" happened. Mom's beginning to worry about me inheriting the family business as she's afraid that I'm "incompetent" to take over the company. Dad's quiet nowadays as he's always thinking about work 24/7. It's sad to see my hero, my dad become so distant from me. It breaks my fragile heart once again. Oh wait, I don't have one anymore.