Chapter one

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A/N:
Hi everyone,  I hope you are doing great and I hope you would enjoy my book. This is my very first professional writing experience so please feel free to tell me about what you think about my book and please vote. Later on, when my book is completed, it would be remover from Wattpad and would be published.
If you have any comments about my book you can tell me in the comments or dm me in Instagram : @baran.s_library









  I turn the key in the lock and unlock the door. I step in our cool house. I hate it when I enter the house and mom is not here to hug me tight and greet me, but I have been experiencing it since the beginning of spring when mom started working again after 15 years.
  She was a police officer before but now she just does all the office work in the police station. I don't enjoy the fact that we don't have a warm and fresh food when I come back from school everyday, tired and hungry, and I really miss mom since we haven't had much time to hangout recently ;because when she comes back home she is either way too tired to even eat and goes to sleep right away or it is too late for me to stay awake ; but I haven't told her how I feel about this new situation.  I don't want to make her feel bad and stop what she enjoys. She had once stopped working because of me; 15 years ago when I was born and I don't want her to do it again. Not because of me at least. And until she is happy, I am happy too. So I don't bother telling her that I think her job has taken her away from me .
  Dad has never been here either, he is an FBI agent and works in the department of monitoring digital activity, and that's all I know since He is an FBI agent and must keep everything secret. He lives in Washington,  where the FBI headquarters is located and it is a four and a half hours road trip to North Carolina at least ,so he comes home only twice a year for a few days. Therefore I don't know what it is like to have a dad .
  "Everything will change very soon though" I remind myself as I let out a gasp and exhale slowly. "Next summer dad will be retired and we can gather as a family . All three of us. Together". I have already planned everything and can't wait for next summer.
  I run upstairs and enter my room. I throw my bag to a corner of my room and change my clothes fast and throw myself on my bed. I'm just way too tired to do anything. School has been hard lately, nothing is going on as it must.
  I have always been an A+ student but I haven't had a single 100 from the beginning of the school year, and I don't even know why. I am trying so hard, doing my best, studying till 2am and I even take extra classes __which is not like me__ but no difference.
  My grades are getting worse and worse and my average is 94 now . I know it's not bad but it is , for me. And nothing is ever enough. I should reach 100 percent so I can make sure I will be able to study in a good high-school next year.
  I suddenly come back to my quiet and cold room from the dark nooks and crannies of my thoughts when my stomach growls. I notice how hungry I was , so I get of of my bed and walk back down and go to the kitchen.
  I open the fridge door and look inside. My mom has left some steak from last night, raw, for me to cook and eat ;but I'm just not I the mood of cooking right now . So I take out the Avocado and close the fridge. I cut the avocado in half and start mashing one half of it .
  Then I search to find the toast. It is usually on the kitchen's table but now it's not. So I open the cupboard above the microwave which my mom stores anything edible,  and there it is . "Found it !" I almost shout . I don't know how loud my tune was but it was loud enough for my voice to echo in the empty house .
  I take a toast out of the plastic packaging and push it into the toaster . I turn it on and spin the plastic packaging, my mom does this instead of using one of those special clips; and to be honest , I don't bother telling her about them because I think this way is easier for me.
  I put the plastic bag of toasts in the cupboard and grab some red Peper for my Avacado toast. Mom says I hated Avocados when I was younger but now my favourite snacks are the ones that are made with Avocado . My toast pops out of the toaster and I grab it with my hand . I throw it on the kitchen table since it is too hot to hold it in hand or with your fingers.
  Then I grab the fork I mashed the avocado sooner and spread the mashed avocado over my toast. Then I sprinkle some red Peper on it like Nusret Gökçe; and voilà. I take a bite of it and walk towards living room to pic the phone and call mom.
  As I'm dialing mom's phone number I finish eating my avocado toast and then I put the phone to my ear, listening to the beeping sound. Mom picks up on the 4th beep :" Hello sweetie."
- Hi mom! Just called you to say that I hot home , I have already changed my clothes and ate my lunch and I am going to study so I will turn off my phone and I might not hear if you call home ; so, don't get worried.
- Oh sweetie. Nice of you to tell me , but don't you do this everyday? I mean, I know so don't call me everyday.
  She laughs and I laugh too. It is true . I call her everyday , around 4:30 , just like today , to tell her that I have changed my clothes and ate lunch and will be studying with my phone turned off so I won't be answering her calls. She is quite worried all the time, I don't blame her though, but I try to help. So I call her to give updates on myself and what I'm doing, or text her when I arrive at school every morning.
  "What did you eat for lunch ? The steak I have left you? Or your perfect and unique avocado toast?" She asks.
  She knows me too well. Of course! She is my mother we are talking about. She knows and everything about me.
  " You know the answer" I say, and she bursts into laughter on the other side of the phone.
  " Yes I do " she says while she still has the smile on her face, I can hear it . " Beth, darling I gotta go sweetheart. I am very bust you know. See you in a few hours" she continues.
  " OK. Take care. See ya " I say , and the i hang up the phone .

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