Parrot And Girl

Chapter 1

I'll never forget the day when I shed tears. Screams, terrified screeching and nightmarish memories of a home building up in flames. Shouts of people rang, begging for the ones inside to get flea, escape, and try to at least make it out. They thought there was still a chance to survive, but it was too late. They never made it out, except only one survived.

Then it all stopped.

Yet it didn't end the pain, instead the pain still burns just like the fire burned the home that was once lived by a family.

There was no end to what needs to be done, and where they'll lead to till the very end.

But what matters is where I am now, and where today will lead on to.

I woke up with an ache, more like a heartache. My head feels like it got weighed down by heavy pounds of bricks, filled with horrifying images as my lungs wanted to breathe, and finally a scream. I woke up from a bad dream, no it's not just a dream, but a memory. Memory of the time I saw my parents, and Joey on their final day, when I heard their screams, cries, or when Joey died in my arms knowing it's the reason that had lead one single person to survive. I was only five when it happened and I was there. This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last time either. The memory will keep playing in my head, as it'll never want to let go as it clings on to me like arms that wanted embrace its final moments.

It's not like I ever wanted any of it to happen.

I don't live in a beautiful house that was once my home, gone. Instead I ended up living in a foster home for the unlucky ones, luck is nothing, this place isn't always that bad. Foster home may seem unpleasant to some people but it is at least a place to live in with provided food, clothes, and a roof above your heads. Besides who would want to deal with a sad lonely kid in their own home. As much as the memory, and the crave of the missing hurts, it's hard not to forget.

Even as I'm awake, the old fashion alarm clock shook, creating a small clockquake as it is loud and clear. But I'm awake, so I punch it off. Looking at the window, it was time to start the day.

I pull out of bed and change into my normal clothes, something casual, simple, and something I'm comfortable with. I wear these types of clothes everyday but not the same colors and finally having my hair combed, nice and smooth as my fingers play with each strand it goes through.

After I'm done with that, I walk to my window just for a quick look. The sun today didn't want to expose itself, it's a little windy today seeing as a little whirlwind of fallen leaves, and pieces of ripped litter play around together. Just people and vehicles passing by as birds are out flying and singing around, I just love staring at the view outside my window, the life outside is just there to push it away. At least I didn't have to move cities, living in Los Angeles is the closest thing to my parents and besides the city is where their graves are, I could go and see them anytime I wanted.

"Lola, breakfast is ready!" Andrea Jones's voice rings down.

Andrea Jones, the owner of this foster home, she loves to take care of the little children and the big kids including me in the house. She is like a second mother anyone ever wanted, I love her. She always believed that everyone should deserve a second chance. She deserves the credit from working hard, and taking us under her wing. So practically, I was raised here by her.

I replied, "Yeah I'm coming just give me a moment."

I heard her sigh like she knew what was coming, but let it pass. She knows why I take time, and I love that she respects that. I give myself two or more minutes to stare out of the window, at the dullness and sigh loudly. But I knew the call of breakfast calls for my name as my stomach growled for me to eat.