Against All Odds

New Day

***picture of Vivian***

Devoting this chapter to muslimah_khadijah mohsina31

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--Author POV--

'Alarm chirping at 8 am'

early in the morning, the sky was bright.
The birds are chirping and enjoying the cool breeze.
The blue sky is dotted with fluffy white clouds that drifts a  gentle breeze.
Another day had dawned, bringing with it new hopes and aspirations.

That's how someone would describe their beautiful morning awakening. But for Vivian, things were a bit different...

"C'mon it's still early! Shut the hell up," said Vivian as she grasped the alarm off the table and shoved it to the floor.

"Vivian wake up it's time for breakfast and school, don't you dare make me go up there and shove water on your face like last time!" Mark, Vivian's dad, shrieked.

--VIVIAN POV--

His voice is so annoying but I wake up, go to the bathroom, turn on the water, and brush my teeth while staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I can't believe how dreadful I look, my brown messy hair pulled into a ponytail, and my sunken blue eyes still pleading for more sleep, my long legs are far too weak to hold me.

I step into the shower, toes flinch as they touch the chilled ceramic floor. My mind is in shreds; I would never get that picture out of my mind. I turn the dial, golden and metallic, releasing thousands of lukewarm drops, darkening my hair and trickling down my back. My eyes have fallen closed over and over, each time showing me the images like photographs ...

My mom standing in front of me with a gun in her hand aiming at her forehead.
The image is vivid like it was yesterday. I begged her to stop, but nonchalantly, she pulled the trigger, and within a few seconds, her life was gone, my mom was no longer here.

I put on my white shower robe; blow-dry my hair and tie it into a bow.

Heading to my wardrobe closet, Glass doors enclose this spacious wardrobe, open and bright thanks to the lighting incorporated beneath each shelf. There's space for shoes, undershirts, and includes plenty of small drawers and boxes for garments that I don't want to put on display. If I have a fantastic fashion sense or an impressive shoe collection, or most lavish and expensive pieces of clothing, why not show it off?

Anyways, I grab what I need and head downstairs.

The house was new. Very new. It looked like it had been finished last week. It looked almost too new in some strange way. It was as if it had rolled off a production line, but they had forgotten to apply the mandatory layer of colour to it. The windows were huge and seemingly inspired by something truly alien. Anyone could see into the house from an uncomfortable distance. From here, I could see surfaces of white, glossy plastic that iced over the kitchen, granite enforced the walls in their straight, uninspired monotony. There wasn't a single square meter of organic material insight. Not even a comforting wallpaper that imitated warmth in some way. Not even a plank of wood. The house, it seems, was a livable, modern mausoleum.

"Hello ma'am," Vicky, the housemaid said.

"Piss off!" I snapped.

"Vivan, you cant talk to anyone like that !" My dad yelled.

"Hush! not in the mood to hear another philosophy from a person who's the exact opposite of what philosophy should be about, " said Vivian as she grabs the Avocado toast.