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BAD DAUGHTER
CHAPTER 1
The ethereal glow of morning light spilled into her room, painting everything in hues of gold and warmth. Sophie stretched her body as her eyelids fluttered open. Each muscle unfurled like a budding flower greeting the dawn.
A rhythmic chopping sound echoed from the kitchen.The tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked food wafted into her room, tickling her senses, pulling her out of bed with an invisible string. Sophie sniffed in the aroma.
"Wow, she doesn't cease to amaze me," Sophie murmured to herself.
A sigh escaped her lips. She couldn't help but notice a strained muscle protesting against the morning's tranquility. She massaged her shoulder, her fingers kneading the stiffness that had settled there.
With a soft grunt, She pushed herself off the bed. Her feet finding purchase on the cold concrete floor. The chill was a jolt. A sharp contrast to the warmth of her bed.
Stepping into the living room, she couldn't help but notice the new arrangements. When was these changes made? She wondered. The three couches with worn fabric from years of use, huddled together in a cozy arrangement beside the wall.
An old TV set sat in the corner, its dark screen reflects the sparse room. It was an artifact from a different era. On the wall above it, a photograph of Mrs. Emily was proudly displayed. The edges of the photo were faded. Her gaze lingered on the photograph.
She tiptoed towards the kitchen door.
"Good Morning," she managed to get out between a yawn, the words still heavy with sleep.
Mrs. Emily, a woman whose face bore the beautiful etchings of time and wisdom, turned to look at Sophie. Her warm eyes twinkled with an unspoken secret.
"I'm glad you didn't actually lose your memory," she said, with a soft lilt of amusement as she turned back to her task.
Sophie's heart skipped a beat. The words hung in the air. A riddle wrapped in a mystery. Had something happened last night? She tried to recall, but her memory was as elusive as a shadow at noon. Her head spun, a pendulum swinging wildly, leaving her disoriented.
She leaned against the door frame for support, her hand instinctively going to her forehead. The world seemed to sway around her, like a boat caught in a storm.
She quickly took a seat on the worn kitchen stool. Her gaze fixated on the flickering kerosene stove. As the fire crackled, smoke billowed. A cough escaped her lips.
She stood up and reached for the table gas, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Wow, it's refilled! Why not use this?" she exclaimed.
However, Mrs. Emily With a swift but gentle swat to Sophie's hand, she turned off the gas stove.
"Mind your business, dear. Any day you wish to cook, you can use that," Mrs. Emily declared.
Sophie couldn't help but chuckle at her response.
"Wow, what's this vibe coming from you?" she retorted.
Sophie mustered the courage to broach the subject of yesterday.
"About yesterday..... her voice faltered, caught in the depths of her throat. But before she could find the right words, Mrs. Emily interjected.
"I'm done. Eat before going," she declared.
With a sense of resignation, Mrs. Emily grabbed a plate, dished out a portion of food for her. As Mrs. Emily served her, there was a noticeable absence of their usual exchange of words, a silence that hung heavy between them.
Curiosity tugged at Sophie's heartstrings. She couldn't help but voice her concern.
"You aren't eating?" she inquired.
Mrs. Emily paused for a moment. Her gaze lingered on the unfinished meal.
"I still have something to attend to before the sun comes up," she replied.
With purpose in her stride, she grabbed a watering can from the storage room and made her way to the door. Sophie watched as she shut the door behind her.
"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie," she scolded herself. "What really came over you yesterday? That was unlike you."
Determined to clear the air of misunderstanding, She knew she had to address the situation. But before she could delve into the depths of their unspoken tension, she needed to nourish herself. The aroma of the vegetable soup wafted towards her.
Sophie dipped her spoon into the bowl, as the spoon descended, it landed on an unexpected obstacle—a crab. Her brow furrowed as a slight tremor occurred in her hand.
"Crab? She wondered. The fact she disliked crab was well known to Mrs Emily. She disliked the feeling in her mouth. The presence of the crustacean in her soup felt like a deliberate act. A subtle message in the form of rebellion.
With a deep breath, Sophie set aside her spoon. "Ma'am!" Sophie's voice echoed through the house. As she stepped outside, the chill of the weather nipped at her skin. With a sense of urgency, she scanned the area but Mrs. Emily was nowhere to be seen. A flicker of realization crossed her mind—Mrs. Emily must have retreated to her beloved garden.
Driven by her intuition, Sophie made her way towards the garden. As she approached, the vibrant green leaves of the vegetables greeted her, a testament to Mrs. Emily's nurturing touch. Some plants had even begun to bloom, their delicate flowers adding a touch of beauty.
Sophie couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration and awe as she took in the sight before her.
"Ma'am!" Sophie called out.
Mrs. Emily turned towards her, "...Don't disturb the whole neighborhood," she chided gently.
Sophie took a deep breath, gathered her courage. "Well, ah...but you know how much I dislike crab," she confessed.
Mrs. Emily's gaze softened, "Hmm...hope you enjoyed your meal?" she asked.
Sophie hesitated for a moment,"I know I'm not allergic, but that's not my turf," she explained.
"To me, it is. But young lady, are you not going to work today?" Mrs. Emily inquired, shifting the focus of the conversation.
Sophie kicked the dust with her big toe, her gaze downcast. "About yesterday, I'm sorry. It won't happen again," she offered sincerely.
"...Just get going already, else you would be late," she replied.
Sophie smiled"you know sometimes you're .....mean," She uttered.
"Yes, that's because , life isn't fair," she replied.
Feeling a surge of emotions, Sophie stormed into the house through the back door, her footsteps echoed through the quiet space.
As she passed by Mrs. Emily's room, her eyes caught sight of an old newspaper lying on the bed. The yellowed pages and faded print spoke of a time long gone, a relic from Sophie's childhood.
Curiosity piqued. She reached out and grabbed the newspaper, cradled it in her hands as she entered her own room. With a threw the newspaper landed on her bed.
As she entered the bathroom, her reflection on the mirror startled her.
Seeking solace, Sophie ran the shower, the sound of cascading water filling the room. But before she could immerse herself in the rejuvenating embrace of the shower, her phone rang.
She stepped out of the shower, droplets of water clinging to her skin, Sophie quickly wrapped a towel around herself. But before she could get to her phone, the call had ended. The name on her phone screen read - Millicent. Sophie knew she was running late.
With a sense of urgency, she dressed herself. Her fingers trembled as she slipped the newspaper into her handbag and zoomed off.
© Lily
The ethereal glow of morning light spilled into her room, painting everything in hues of gold and warmth. Sophie stretched her body as her eyelids fluttered open. Each muscle unfurled like a budding flower greeting the dawn.
A rhythmic chopping sound echoed from the kitchen.The tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked food wafted into her room, tickling her senses, pulling her out of bed with an invisible string. Sophie sniffed in the aroma.
"Wow, she doesn't cease to amaze me," Sophie murmured to herself.
A sigh escaped her lips. She couldn't help but notice a strained muscle protesting against the morning's tranquility. She massaged her shoulder, her fingers kneading the stiffness that had settled there.
With a soft grunt, She pushed herself off the bed. Her feet finding purchase on the cold concrete floor. The chill was a jolt. A sharp contrast to the warmth of her bed.
Stepping into the living room, she couldn't help but notice the new arrangements. When was these changes made? She wondered. The three couches with worn fabric from years of use, huddled together in a cozy arrangement beside the wall.
An old TV set sat in the corner, its dark screen reflects the sparse room. It was an artifact from a different era. On the wall above it, a photograph of Mrs. Emily was proudly displayed. The edges of the photo were faded. Her gaze lingered on the photograph.
She tiptoed towards the kitchen door.
"Good Morning," she managed to get out between a yawn, the words still heavy with sleep.
Mrs. Emily, a woman whose face bore the beautiful etchings of time and wisdom, turned to look at Sophie. Her warm eyes twinkled with an unspoken secret.
"I'm glad you didn't actually lose your memory," she said, with a soft lilt of amusement as she turned back to her task.
Sophie's heart skipped a beat. The words hung in the air. A riddle wrapped in a mystery. Had something happened last night? She tried to recall, but her memory was as elusive as a shadow at noon. Her head spun, a pendulum swinging wildly, leaving her disoriented.
She leaned against the door frame for support, her hand instinctively going to her forehead. The world seemed to sway around her, like a boat caught in a storm.
She quickly took a seat on the worn kitchen stool. Her gaze fixated on the flickering kerosene stove. As the fire crackled, smoke billowed. A cough escaped her lips.
She stood up and reached for the table gas, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Wow, it's refilled! Why not use this?" she exclaimed.
However, Mrs. Emily With a swift but gentle swat to Sophie's hand, she turned off the gas stove.
"Mind your business, dear. Any day you wish to cook, you can use that," Mrs. Emily declared.
Sophie couldn't help but chuckle at her response.
"Wow, what's this vibe coming from you?" she retorted.
Sophie mustered the courage to broach the subject of yesterday.
"About yesterday..... her voice faltered, caught in the depths of her throat. But before she could find the right words, Mrs. Emily interjected.
"I'm done. Eat before going," she declared.
With a sense of resignation, Mrs. Emily grabbed a plate, dished out a portion of food for her. As Mrs. Emily served her, there was a noticeable absence of their usual exchange of words, a silence that hung heavy between them.
Curiosity tugged at Sophie's heartstrings. She couldn't help but voice her concern.
"You aren't eating?" she inquired.
Mrs. Emily paused for a moment. Her gaze lingered on the unfinished meal.
"I still have something to attend to before the sun comes up," she replied.
With purpose in her stride, she grabbed a watering can from the storage room and made her way to the door. Sophie watched as she shut the door behind her.
"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie," she scolded herself. "What really came over you yesterday? That was unlike you."
Determined to clear the air of misunderstanding, She knew she had to address the situation. But before she could delve into the depths of their unspoken tension, she needed to nourish herself. The aroma of the vegetable soup wafted towards her.
Sophie dipped her spoon into the bowl, as the spoon descended, it landed on an unexpected obstacle—a crab. Her brow furrowed as a slight tremor occurred in her hand.
"Crab? She wondered. The fact she disliked crab was well known to Mrs Emily. She disliked the feeling in her mouth. The presence of the crustacean in her soup felt like a deliberate act. A subtle message in the form of rebellion.
With a deep breath, Sophie set aside her spoon. "Ma'am!" Sophie's voice echoed through the house. As she stepped outside, the chill of the weather nipped at her skin. With a sense of urgency, she scanned the area but Mrs. Emily was nowhere to be seen. A flicker of realization crossed her mind—Mrs. Emily must have retreated to her beloved garden.
Driven by her intuition, Sophie made her way towards the garden. As she approached, the vibrant green leaves of the vegetables greeted her, a testament to Mrs. Emily's nurturing touch. Some plants had even begun to bloom, their delicate flowers adding a touch of beauty.
Sophie couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration and awe as she took in the sight before her.
"Ma'am!" Sophie called out.
Mrs. Emily turned towards her, "...Don't disturb the whole neighborhood," she chided gently.
Sophie took a deep breath, gathered her courage. "Well, ah...but you know how much I dislike crab," she confessed.
Mrs. Emily's gaze softened, "Hmm...hope you enjoyed your meal?" she asked.
Sophie hesitated for a moment,"I know I'm not allergic, but that's not my turf," she explained.
"To me, it is. But young lady, are you not going to work today?" Mrs. Emily inquired, shifting the focus of the conversation.
Sophie kicked the dust with her big toe, her gaze downcast. "About yesterday, I'm sorry. It won't happen again," she offered sincerely.
"...Just get going already, else you would be late," she replied.
Sophie smiled"you know sometimes you're .....mean," She uttered.
"Yes, that's because , life isn't fair," she replied.
Feeling a surge of emotions, Sophie stormed into the house through the back door, her footsteps echoed through the quiet space.
As she passed by Mrs. Emily's room, her eyes caught sight of an old newspaper lying on the bed. The yellowed pages and faded print spoke of a time long gone, a relic from Sophie's childhood.
Curiosity piqued. She reached out and grabbed the newspaper, cradled it in her hands as she entered her own room. With a threw the newspaper landed on her bed.
As she entered the bathroom, her reflection on the mirror startled her.
Seeking solace, Sophie ran the shower, the sound of cascading water filling the room. But before she could immerse herself in the rejuvenating embrace of the shower, her phone rang.
She stepped out of the shower, droplets of water clinging to her skin, Sophie quickly wrapped a towel around herself. But before she could get to her phone, the call had ended. The name on her phone screen read - Millicent. Sophie knew she was running late.
With a sense of urgency, she dressed herself. Her fingers trembled as she slipped the newspaper into her handbag and zoomed off.
© Lily
