Withering Roses

Pasta Monster

Chapter 1

A week has passed since I've seen that mysterious boy.
Who was he?
What was he doing in front of our house?
What did he want?
And most importantly, why was he watching me with such intrigued, curious eyes. And oh my god, I can't forget the way our eyes locked right before he pulled out of the parking lot...and how I embarrassingly dropped to my knees to hide from him, as if he didn't already see me. I'm so embarrassing. He probably thought I was a weirdo, well technically that's not wrong because that's exactly what I am. I buried my face and groaned into the pillow, I pouted as I thought about that whole messy situation.

Of course it would only me, who would manage to embarrass herself in front of such a beautiful boy.

I just couldn't stop thinking about him.

To be honest, boys should be the last thing on my mind right now, especially because I promised myself I wouldn't get attached to a boy. I couldn't do that, not to myself and specially not to him.

I just wouldn't be able to give him what he deserves.

A gentle knock on my door shook me out of my thoughts. I couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at my predicament. Look at me over here thinking about boys and relationships, like any of that is possible for me.

Wonder what my mother would think about all this.

"Come in?"

My mother strolled into my room with a false smile, and a cup of what I assumed  would be coffee. But unlike her, I couldn't be bothered to put up a fake smile. There's no point in me trying to hide how I feel because she knows everything. She knew how I felt.

"I bought you some coffee baby, since that's the only thing you drink." She teased knowingly. I gave her a gentle smile as I reached for my steaming mug. She and I have been through a lot together. I know I've hurt her with the decisions I've made, and maybe they weren't the best but at the moment, I felt like it was my only logical option.

With time, I might come to regret this path that I have chosen to walk upon. But right now I couldn't careless.

She gently took a seat on my bed and started straightening the creases on my bedsheets. "Did you take y-your medication?" She swallowed and avoided my eyes.

I nodded as I looked out the window hoping to see that boy again-wait no, I shouldn't be wanting to see him or any boy for that matter. I shook my head in hopes I stop thinking about him.

I looked at my mother, she was staring at my face with unshed tears. She smiled and brushed my hair off of my face. "I love you so much sweetie" she whispered as she kissed my forehead. I felt the corners of my eyes burn as well but I refuse to cry, I'm over crying, I'm over trying to change something that I have no control over. "Please mom, don't do this. Can we please just enjoy ourselves like how we used to." This house has gotten so gloomy and empty. It used to be so bright and cheerful.

I couldn't help but think it was all my fault for the way everything has changed. Both my parents were acting like they're walking on eggshells, both with tired eyes, and fake smiles.

My mom was a beautiful woman. She has long ink black hair (with a few greys) that reached her hips, she always kept it braided or up in a bun so you couldn't really see much of it. Her hair is so thick and soft.

People always tell me I look just like her, which always cheers me up. Who wouldn't wanna look like this beauty queen. I was so thankful to be blessed with her good hair, nails, and skin! Everything that I am today is all because of her. I loved this woman dearly. Even if she did seemed to age well beyond her years within the last year. She used to have the most beautiful skin I have ever seen. She never had any bags under her eyes, her wrinkles were barely visible...but now...she hardly looked like herself. And it was all my fault.

She sighed as she got off of my bed and wondered to my door. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding, glad she gave me my space. I love my mom but whenever she's around me nowadays, I feel like I can't breath. I feel suffocated.

"What do you want to eat for dinner darling?" She asked without turning around. She didn't have to turn around for me to know, that the tears she was holding back were now sliding down her cheeks.

"Anything is fine mom, you know that. If you're not sure what you wanna make, then make some Alfredo. I like Alfredo" I whispered the last bit because I really do like my Alfredo and because I know that's gonna make her smile.

She giggled as she said "I know you do baby...my little pasta monster." I smiled. I wanted to make her smile, and the one thing that makes her face light up is, when we take a trip down the memory lane to happier times.

You see when I was about four, the neighbours were having a barbecue. We were invited so my mom made her famous Alfredo dish. She set the dish on the table and went to the bathroom,  bad idea. I got myself into the Alfredo. She came back from the bathroom to see her four year old sitting INSIDE the pot of Alfredo...covered in the sauce... Apparently I had Alfredo everywhere, my hair, my clothes, my face, and even on my butt.

My mom lost it, there's even pictures to prove it.

So on that day a 'pasta monster' was born.  

No literally,

Since I was a toddler, I've grown a very unhealthy obsession with Alfredo, actually I eat anything that's pasta. I live for pasta. Hence the name pasta monster was bestowed upon me.

She loved that nickname.

She shook her head and walked out my door with a smile on her face.

I got up with my cup of coffee and decided to drink it while sitting on the windowsill.

My dad had build a seating area on my windowsill. He made it look so cute and comfy with some nice cushions. It almost looked like a mini bed, actually I have fallen asleep comfortably at times on this thing. I grabbed the romance novel sitting on it and pulled out the bookmark. There ain't nothing more ironic than a girl, who's trying everything in her willpower to avoid falling in love, is always walking straight into the romance section at bookstores and libraries.

I couldn't help but stare out the window, hoping to see if the boy, who's face has gotten impossible for me to forget is maybe hanging around my house again. Even though I barely knew him, a small glance is all it took for him to take refugee in my mind.

Without my permission.

Oh well, it's not like I'll ever see him again. That thought brought a unwanted frown to my face.