Finally back from Uni, sorry for taking a while to get this chapter up, I am swamped to my neck with work, (We had Bill Clinton come over yea !) If you heard about the MH-17 Flight disaster :( Well I was a hostess in the conference were 2/3 of the plane was meant to come to, so obviously it was bad, emotions everywhere, and evreything so I was running 14 hour shifts as a point. That ends in a nother week or so, so bare (Bear?) with me. xx Hope all those passed away are in a better place now, such a disaster.
----------NOT EDITED AS I DO NOT HAVE THE TIME PLEASE DO NOT MAKE ANY CORRECTIONS
*(#&^$^#*^&@^$^@# I'M SO FANCY (BORDER), YOU ALREADY KNOW @#$&@#
Chapter: It only takes "one" man to agree
Sunday breakfasts were a pain in the donkey for many reasons.
Firstly it was the weekend, which mean there shouldn't be a thing called breakfast, it is known as brunch. And the definition of brunch was a late meal between breakfast and lunch time, favorably towards lunch time.
Secondly, if you lived away and if you were born in the Stephenfort family, which I unfortunately was, it was a family event, which meant kids, cousins, grand kids if there were any which of course my family had, were all at one table wrestling each other for food.
Thirdly, when important messages were delivered, you had to act calm and if you had a problem, talk afterwards in private. Of course I was sure I was adopted, even if I looked like a spitting imagine of my father, which no girl wanted to hear, since I did not have that patience, calm or anything lady like.
"Excuse f*cking me?" I snapped loud enough for all thirty patrons around the table to freeze.
"Charlotte! There are kids here!" snapped my eldest sister, Maria covering her youngest daughters ears. I rolled my eyes, was she joking, her and her husband swore more, and everyone knew that their oldest son, who was six now, his first word rhymed with munt but began with c.
My mother being at the head of the table stared down at me placing her knife and fork neatly on the plate, who the hell ate hash browns with a knife and fork?
"Now Charlotte," she began dabbing her mouth with a tissue, "Your father and I thought this was the best idea-,"
"Well it's not," I said grimacing. There was a reason I was the only unmarried child they had, unlike everyone else who was ready to become baby producing machines, I was not. Damn it I was only twenty-two, well in a month or so, I had my life to live.
Unlike Maria who had her first kid at twenty-two, I was not going to.
"Well we think you should give it a try,"
"Mum, this isn't trial and error, this is marriage you are talking about,"
"It's not all that bad," said Maria taking a bite of her toast and earning a disapproving look from my mum. I raised an eyebrow.
"Yea that's because Michael, your childhood sweetheart is the son of dad's best friend, you guys grew up together, no offence Michael," I said even if there wasn't any offence. He raised a hand as he drank his coffee as he rocked the baby rocker with his other hand. Three kids, how on earth were they coping.
Judging by the dark circles under both eyes, they were struggling.
Sure Maria was six years older than me, but that does not mean I had to lead in her footsteps damn it.
YOU ARE READING
Abhorrence
Romance"Just stop," his voice commanded. "Stop what?" "Stop running." According to Harvard University, the Oxford Edition dictionary, the meaning of abhorrence, a word I didn't even know how to spell was "A feeling of revulsion; disgusted loathing" a...
