❝her love was engrossing,
rampant, and enliving.
so much that,
she became an indispensable
part of him.❞
-j.o
After two tragedies that struck her deep into a depressive state, Carter...
It was a lovely Sunday morning, and Carter was peacefully sleeping. She was alone, her body submerged beneath her large comforter. Strawberry blonde hair stuck to her face, a small pool of drool painted her pillow beneath her head. Heather ran into the room excitedly, jumping onto Carter's bed. "Pancakes!" she screamed, attacking her older sister. "Get up, Cartie! Mommy made pancakes!" She continued to leap on the bed until a pillow connected with her face. "Leave me alone!" Carter bellowed, only to hear Heather run down the hall giggling. Her head hurt, and her muscles felt stiff, but she got up anyway. She couldn't just turn down pancakes. With a quick flip of her head, she tied her hair into a messy bun and walked out of her room to see Aunt Jackie leaned against the wall with a phone pressed to her ear. She raised a questioning brow, though she slipped quietly past her and down the stairs.
The kitchen smelled like bacon and Carter's stomach, as if on que, growled loudly. Orange juice, milk, and apple juice jugs all sat on the counter, and different toppings– including cool whip!– surrounded the pancakes. The strawberry blonde hurried to the island, grabbed a plate, and started piling bacon and pancakes with blueberries on her dish. She also poured herself a glass of orange juice and took her place at the glass table that sat to the side of the room. Heather was already sat down, gnawing at the syrup covered bread with delight. "The food is delicious," Carter complimented the two women, stuffing my face with fluffy bread coated in syrup and cool whip. Her mother and her aunt Jackie really out did themselves. Within a few minutes, Carter was done and ready to go back up to her room to read or something.
She took her plate to the sink, kissed her mother on the cheek, and left for her room. The air was cool, and it chilled her skin. It was beginning to get cold in Virginia. The rain became sleet, and the ground frosted over a few times in the mornings. She slid through her door and closed it tightly behind herself, hopping onto the firm mattress that comforted her at night. It smelled like strawberries, much like her hair, and her perfume. A scent made by angels. She plugged her iPod onto her iHome and pressed shuffle. She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5 began to play. As if he had been sitting right beside her, Matt texted the girl.
