I was surprised when I woke up with my body parts still intact together and complete. But my admonishing thoughts immediately questioned my astonished self regarding the genuineness of yesterday’s events. Was everything all true? Or were they all just figments of my wide, wide imagination in a dream?
Was Cal really the sun God, Apollo?
Oh Gods. If I could hear myself think, I would probably think I’m crazy.
Of course, I was left with no other hell bent choice other than to keep living, moving forward. I got a long, pleasurable bath, I got dressed quickly—not that I have to spend lots of time pairing up my clothes since they were all simple tees and skinny jeans—and immediately went down after for breakfast.
As I went down, my mother was finishing the breakfast she makes for me on daily basis: A piece of toast, scrambled egg, bacon, pancakes, and hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows.
“Hey, good morning!” My mother, Gina, greeted as soon as she saw me. “How was your sleep?”
My mom has been striving to be a single mom ever since I was in her womb. And she’s been very excellent at it. My father died in a war in Middle East when my mother was in her premature pregnancy weeks. He was a very good man, she said.
“Weird…” I finally responded.
She frowned, still she looked so beautiful. “How so? What’s it about?”
“It’s just weird. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s giving me the creeps, big time.” I said as I took a bite of my toast.
She chuckled. “We all have those times. One time, I dreamt I was in a meadow with really, really green grass and there were frogs that could fly. And then they chased me and together we soared up in the clouds while laughing so hard. When I woke up, I learned something.”
“That getting high is really, really bad.” She said with a laugh.
I chuckled. “You smoked pot in your dream?”
“No. It was like I was when I laughed together with the frogs. Imagine that, with flying frogs!” She said as she took a seat before me. We had a good laugh for a full minute after that. We were always like that.
I had an older brother—or what supposed to be an older brother. My mom was four months pregnant with him when she got a miscarriage. They named him still: Adrian, and gave him a decent funeral. A year after, my mom got pregnant with me and then father died. It was hell of a biography for my mom: a deceased-in-the-womb premature son, a dead army husband, and a crazy eighteen year-old daughter who’s dating a Greek God. Dibs on her?
Suddenly, there was a ring on the door. Cal! He always fetches me and we go to school together, every single day.
“Fetch the door, Ariadne.” Mom said. “That’s Cal, I’m sure. Ask him to stay a little and have breakfast.”
I was more than eager to.
“Hey.” The beholder of a pair of blue eyes said as I stared into them.
I smiled. “Hey. Mom said let’s have breakfast for a while. Come in!”
He hesitated before coming in. He was always like that. He’s always hesitating to enter our house whenever I invite him to. If there was any reason behind it, I sure haven’t asked about it.
YOU ARE READING
"Let me get this straight... You're Apollo, the sun god something? And you want me... to marry you?" When people fall in love, they see everything around them so perfectly. Nothing can stop them, nothing can break them. But when Ariadne Kings...