If you're brave enough to read on, you'll find out..👀
'She paused and took a sip of her hot chocolate. I squirmed in my seat. "I remember when I used to tell your mother to look out for signs...of your problem. And now you live a life embracing it...
<Munae's POV> I wake up at nine o'clock sharp everyday. My maid, Mrs. Davis, already had my hot breakfast waiting by my bedside and was pulling aside my curtains. As always, this is how I woke up. My morning breath clouded my nose, and sleep still stained the corners of my mouth like discarded tears crowded over my tear ducts. I swiped my crusty face with the back of my hand, taking note of how unsmooth my face felt and reminded myself of my salivating tongue.
I was hungry.
I reached over for my tray of breakfast and dug into it. It was the usual but not. Yes, there was my buttered toast and exactly five strips of maple bacon crisped to perfection, and freshly squeezed orange juice with ten drops of Henny delicately laid into it, and three napkins folded perfectly, but today a note card sat beside my humble breakfast. I always ate light in the mornings, but I never expected I'd be eating paper too.
I picked up the folded piece of notebook paper and lured it towards my mouth. "Munae! No! Read the paper," Mrs. Davis encouraged, smiling at me with delight in her eyes, and touching my forearm gently. "Oh," I said, rubbing my tender eyes. I opened up the paper and munched on my toast. My greasy fingers traced each word.
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I crumbled up the paper and dropped it in my orange juice, slowly watching it soak up the liquid. "Munae, you know..they care about you..they just happen to have different opinions on how you should live your life versus yourself," Mrs. Davis explained slowly.
"If that was supposed to make me feel better, that didn't help," I pouted, falling back against my bed frame. "I'm full," I said after a second. She slowly gathered up my breakfast on my tray and rubbed my forehead softly. She sighed, and left the room.
I stared at the door. "I'm hungry," I whined loudly. I crossed my arms and glanced at my bed. I don't like it anymore. I started whining more and Mrs. Davis came back with another maid. I only liked Mrs. Davis though. "I don't want to talk to her," I whined some more.
"Shh, shh," Mrs. Davis rubbed my head and I calmed down under her touch. I stared into her brown eyes patiently and searched her aged face for the answers to questions I hadn't thought of. "Better?" she asked after a while. "Yes," I said quietly, in my baby voice.
"Celene is going to bathe you today, because I'm going to get your clothes ready for your dinner date," the head maid informed me. I pouted again and she gave me a gentle warning look. I eased out of my pout but still continued my whining, "But..I thought the dinner date would be like...a longgggg time from now," I complained.
"No, the letter came in late since you're not even where you're supposed to be," Mrs. Davis said as she straightened some of my bed. "And you don't want Mrs. Simple on a wild goose chase after you because that can end up badly. And that woman is relentless."
