Imagination

Chapter 1

We were both beaming towards each other. Eyes stared, breathing was a bit difficult, chest aches. It felt weird but pleasing at the same time.

His laugh, his beautiful peculiar brown eyes, all his package facial features, I could stare at them all day.

He moves closer, both standing while in the midst of awakening sunset, leaning towards my face slowly -

"Perrieee! Get down over here!"

My head startled. The unrealistic picture of event was cut off. I sluggishly opened my eyes and sighs. I got up and perch on my bed blankly. That was my mom calling.

What does she want me to do again?

"Yes?" I answered.

"I told you for the third time. Take out the trash!"

Oh right, I keep overlooking her orders. My mom and I used to be so close together until last year. That one time occurrence change the way we are before. But things happened and there's nothing I can do to alter the past.

Well, in my prospective for us to make up. I'm looking for the best possible chances to make her understand about it. But what's worse, I grabbed it a couple of times.

Unfortunately, I always failed into convincing her. As for my papa, he is still outside the country, working abroad as freelance digital nomad. His work would collaborate with the clients as a freelance visual or graphic designer to produce graphics and images for them.

I missed him so much since the moment he left us a few months ago but he'll return very soon.

So yeah, clearly it's just me and my mom here inside the house for the time being.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming down now." I quickly grab my fleece jacket on the dressing table and wore it.

After I climbed down the stairs, I immediately saw the trash bag beside the kitchen base cabinet and took it outside.

As I walked past the door, I feel the chilling Friday wind in this mid-May breeze right off the bat.

Oh yeah, tomorrow was the pick up day for trash. Those couple of jerk dudes are going to haunt me if I see their faces again. Flirting. That's their way of habit which I miserably hate about them every time they pick up the trash from our house and caught me off guard.

Every Saturday, I woke up so early to catch the sunrise outside, sitting on the front yard bench while reading a book. It's the best thing of all, isn't it?
An indescribable feeling is better to depict. Yet it always get ruined when those bunch of pick up trash guys appeared.

Mom prefers that they are just being friendly to me. She just don't understand what I'm feeling about it at all. But maybe, it's all my fault as well. I mean, why do I have to get up every Saturday as the same day of the garbage collection schedule?

Why Saturday though?

Am I really that sentimental to a day?

"Hey! What's up with the long face?"

I instantly looked up to see a confused guy with a green helmet sitting on his bike on the other side of the street near the lamp post.

He is supposedly in his early mid-twenties, I guess.

Who is he?

Was he talking to me?

I made sure to know if it was me so I tried to point at myself with a question gesture. He nods his head in respond.

"I don't see how that concerns you", I said.

"Looks like I've met a blunt ice queen at this early afternoon. I'm so lucky. But to reply at your statement, I was just trying to be friendly at my neighbor. Now tell me, is there something wrong with that, miss?" He said.