| Felicity Adams |
I took deep breath feeling the familer air passing through my nasal. It's been more than a year I visited my hometown - Boston.
Well there was no reason to visit. I am here today because my witch of sister is getting married or is forced to get married.
'Cursing is bad Fel'. My good consy said
'But she deserves it' bad consy fought.
I sigh putting the book I was holding in my cute tote bag.
My father - Christopher Adams is one of the richest people in county and when I say that he is nothing but a robot in facade of human, trust me I meant it.
Like every typical rich family , my family was nothing but a show in public. When we are out at events , we laugh , we talk , we hold hands , we show that we have great bond but once we are inside the four walls , we don't even acknowledge each other's presence.
I hated this , I still do. But I never let it effect me. Little me was broken when she never received the love she always craved for but as I grew up I realised that I was wrong.
The love I was looking for in my family, was there within me only.
I am that girl who waves at small babies , smiles at strangers , is obsessed with fictional men , love flowers dearly and keeps a happy aura around me always. I was the one , I was finding in all the chaos.
As I walked out of plane , I look around for a familiar face and a smile immediately bloomed on my face as I saw our family's staff head - Mr. Smith , standing there.
I wave at him with a grin earning glances from people around me. Offcourse there stares were telling me to behave because I just got off from the buisness class with other sophisticated people.
But I cared less. Mr. S as I call him enveloped me in a comforting hug and I felt good. He is the only person now who keeps me sane in that house.
I am a hug and clingy type of person and people around me has to keep this note but does my own family knows this !?
"Mon cher , How are you?" Mr. S patted my head lovingly as other servants took my luggage which was one baby pink suitcase only.
( My dear )
Did I mention that Mr. S is from France !? He's in his mid forties now. I remember him running behind me asking me to slip my legs in diaper.
I giggle at the memory "I am all good Mr. S. How are you !?".
He shake his head with a smile , he's growing old. The shiny white hairs on his beard and head says. My heart saddened at the thought.
"I am so happy to see you , I missed you Chérie".
( Swettie)
I happily surround my around arm around his telling him how much I missed being around and followed him towards my father's shiny black BMW.
Mr.Smith has been working for us since he was 18. My late grandfather gave him job when he found Mr.Smith begging for it to my father.
Unlike Mr. Christopher Adams, late Christophe Adams was a great gentleman and a kind hearted man.
I cried for a week straight after he died 5 years ago because he was the only person who was there for me in between all the Adams.
Instead of my parents , only Mr.S and my grandpa were there when I won drawing competition with first rank , when I fell while riding my bicycle for the first time , when I had annual function in my school every year and in every little, big moments of my life.
