asset [h.s.]

five // home alone

A.N.
just wanted to quickly say that in this story, Alicia isn't pronounced as 'Alisha' it's pronounced 'A-liss-e-uh' I thought the name was so pretty and I haven't really seen it being used that much. Enjoy the chapter loves, things are getting interesting from this point onwards ;)

Alicia

After ringing my dad to find out where he is and getting no answer from either of the numbers he gave me, I finally give up and head into the kitchen for something to eat, supposing I'll be eating alone seeing as my dad has failed to keep promises. I also didn't eat lunch today because my law class ran long and by the time I got to the canteen, there was barely any food left so it's fair to say I'm starving by this point.

I pull open the fridge and frown when I find it to be pretty much empty once again. Judging by the lack of food and the mess of the house, it's pretty obvious that our housekeeper, Carla, hasn't been in today and probably not yesterday either.

She's a native Frenchwoman, however she's lived in England most of her adult life, meaning she can speak both languages pretty fluently, which was very handy to me when I was first studying the language. She always says how much she misses France and she visits as much as she can, although she also tells me she doesn't like leaving me alone because I'm basically a daughter to her and if I'm honest, she's really the only every motherly figure I've had. She's been working for my father for about ten years now, but nevertheless, my dad still gives her days off whenever he feels like it.

He says it's because she's been 'working hard' or 'looks like she needs it' but I know that he just doesn't like anyone other than me and him to be in the house very often. Sometimes he even gets angry at me when I'm wandering around, especially when I'm anywhere near his office or workspace in general. I'm not really sure why seeing as his job is working for some software company, which doesn't really seem like a lot of work. I guess he just hates to be disturbed while working.

I know he'd prefer it if Carla wasn't our housekeeper, no matter how much she's become a part of the family, because that means there's less people roaming around the house. But he also knows that the place would turn into a pigsty without her and, deep down, I don't think he has the heart to get rid of her.

I manage to rustle together some sort of meal consisting of chicken and potato wedges but mostly salad as its all we seem to have. I guess it's my dad's newest way of trying to eat healthy, although it never lasts more than about 4 days. I suppose we're alike in that way - our health kicks are only temporary.

I eat my meal pretty quickly and then rummage around in the freezer to find one of the ice creams I asked Carla to buy last week because of cravings. I find the last chocolate one and eat it happily, feeling like I need something sugary after all that salad I ate. You know, balanced diet and all.

Before heading upstairs to take a shower, I decide to quickly grab something to drink. Seeing as we don't have any fizzy drinks or juice either, I settle for just a glass of water but I dump in a bunch of ice cubes too. I can't drink water unless it's freezing cold; the thought of it being slightly less than cold seeming absolutely gross to me. I think it's just a weird habit I've had since I was younger. My dad does it too, always making sure he has enough bottles of water stacked in the fridge.

I grab my bag and my drink before heading upstairs into my room. I place the glass on the bedside table and throw both my bag and remaining books into the bed, deciding to do some work after my shower. I pull off my jacket and also throw it onto the bed before heading over to the ensuite bathroom. After switching on the light and shutting the door, I tear off the rest of my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the tiled bathroom floor.