The alarm had already snoozed four times in the morning. I could hear it but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't move my arm. In fact, I couldn't move at all. I was sick. My mom came in and screamed at the sight of my shivering body clothed in a blanket.
"My Prince is sick.". She shouted.
She touched my forehead.
"What a temperature." She added.
She called for Prescott and Jenny and told them to call for a doctor immediately. The doctor came and said I had a fever and that I should stay home and get treated if I didn't want it to get worse. So I did. I mean I did not want to die. I called Katie's cafe and asked that they sent someone over to bring me coffee. I thought if I couldn't do anything outside the house then I would let the outside come to me inside the house. They didn't do delivery services but I guess I was different. It wasn't long when a young lady came to the house with my coffee. I had a severe headache and couldn't help but sleep all day. When I woke up, I felt like I was dying. So I wrote letter to every lady I had embarrassed at the altar and apologized. I know. It's silly but I did it. I thought I was dying. Give me a break. After that I looked inside my photo album and tried to recollect every single moment with my family, but my headache wouldn't let me. My headache lasted an entire day and all I could get was hot soup and hot coffee. They wouldn't give me what I wanted so I just went to sleep. And it was just four thirty.
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The Twelfth Bride #scholarship2016
Short Story#6 in short story in 2016 He is looking for an eligible bride. So he goes to the altar with eleven brides chosen by his mother in eleven months. Until he meets the twelfth one he chooses himself. She wants an ordinary man. They both have different...
