Inevitable

I

          Ƭhe morning sunbeams reflect brightly off the clear jewel that hangs around the neck of Haille Calista. Her eyes snap open dancing frantically around as she surveils her surrounding. In a soft echo, assuming just the lingering effect of her dream, she hears her name being called repeatedly like a broken record. Slowly, she comes to a realization that it is her adoptive mother, Cara Devine, soft voice that is calling her from downstairs.

Haille groans, roll over and bury her face in her pillow hoping to somehow fall back asleep. The futile attempt proved to be useless as Cara's voice still rang throughout their tiny house. Haille could have sworn that Cara was standing in her doorway by how loud her voice sounds in her ears.

***

I huff exasperatedly, climbing out of bed nonetheless. It was the last of my senior days in high school and I want to do nothing more than to just sleep the day away. Unfortunately, Mom insists that I attend school one last time before I have to face the world and all the responsibilities that awaits.

Walking over to my bathroom, I lazily start my morning routine for school. By the time I've finished showering, dressing, and fixing my hair I was surprised to see that I completed everything in less than fifteen minutes.

"New record," I whisper to myself, grabbing my phone and bag, and walking out of my room and down the stairs only to find Mom running around the kitchen preparing whatever she's making.

I walk into the kitchen, silently taking a seat at the island being careful not to disturb her. She turns around and jumps, clutching her heart, when she sees me. Despite the fact that my presence caught her a bit off guard that still didn't stop her from rushing around the countertop and pulling me into her arms, capturing me in her motherly embrace.

It never ceases to amaze me just how strong this woman is, both mentally and physically, despite her age. She pulls away for a second, just enough to tell me "Happy 18th birthday, Haille." Before crushing me back into her small body.

It's a wonder how she always remembers my birthday, yet I can barely keep up with what day it is.

"Thanks, mom" I say, hugging her back.

She holds me at arms length, hands rested on my shoulders as her eyes run over my face. A proud look settles over her soft features as she stares up at me.

Mom was a bit shorter than me with her standing at 5' and I at 5'6. She wears shoulder length chocolate brown hair that matches her large round brown eyes. Her milky skin still smooth and soft. Mom is unmistakably beautiful for being forty.

Unlike Mom, my skin was more of a sun-tanned color, my hair was a wavy midnight black and my eyes were a blue golden-brown color. Not to brag or anything but I happen to be more curvaceous than my mother.

Once, I asked mom where did I get my looks from. I instantly regretted asking as a result of the pained look that splintered across her face. Still, she revealed that I inherited my mother's looks and my father's strong personality. Both who were involved in a fatal accident that claimed their lives. I was tempted to find out if I had any other family members around, but I managed to hold my curiosity at bay. Having Cara in my life was enough.

"Oh, I almost forgot." She rushes back over to the stove returning a few seconds later with a plate in each hand. "I made your favorite." She sings setting down the first plate in front of me which was, surely enough stacked with my favorite, chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream on top. I heard her chuckle before placing the second plate which held varieties of fruits.