The Fox and the Ladybug

Part Thirty: Waffles

Hey, everyone! How are you guys?

I hope you guys are doing okay, especially around the time of Mothers' Day. You guys are soooo awesome and amazing!

For anyone looking for something to cheer them up, I pasted a link to a video from my all-time favorite Youtuber, Danny Gonzalez. He mostly posts videos of him making fun of rip-off low budget movies or hilariously stupid channels (Ex. Billion Surprise Toys, the channel he is making fun of in the attached video). Danny is one of the funniest- no THE FUNNIEST Youtuber I've ever come across. I highly recommend checking out one of his videos.

Has anyone read Keeper of the Lost Cities yet?

No?

Okay, on with the story!

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Chloe's POV

6:34 AM

"Wake up, Chloe!" a familiar sweet voice said urgently. I slowly opened my aquamarine blue eyes to see a petite girl with short fiery hair leaning over my head wearing a froggy hoodie.

"Five more minutes..." I mumbled. Sabrina rolled her eyes and yanked the blankets off of me.

"I made waffles," she said. "If you don't get up, I'll carry you to the kitchen myself."

I chuckled sleepily, burying my head in my peach-scented pillow and throwing my blanket over my head. "Like you could."

Sabrina gasped offendedly. "That's it, you're getting up now!!"

She grabbed the blanket off of me and dragged my hand to the bathroom. "You get ready. We have school!"

I quickly got up from my comfortable bed and slumped to the sink grumpily, running the sink over my toothbrush. I looked out the window to see summer leaves falling down for sidewalk trees and the superheroes of Paris battling yet another villain.

My mind drifts back to the day I got akumatized, because of mom. My thoughts darken as my mother comes into them, and a familiar cloud of resentment surrounds any memories I've had of her. Holding my toothbrush in my hand and staring at my reflection like a frozen statue, my mind goes back. Way back.

Crash! A sound of glass shattering from inside the room filled the air, sending a shiver across my body. I clutched my yellow teddy bear closer to my chest and gulped, slowly inching my face closer to the doorway to spy in on my mom. A broken china plate layed on the carpet. Mother stared at it angrily with clenched fists and beads of sweat dripping down her forehead. Her breaths were a shallow and quick as purple her face was.

After seeing the mortifying sight, I hastily stepped back and pressed myself against the cold walls. Mother would be furious if she saw me spying, so I fearfully stood as close to the wall as I could; part of me trying to flatten myself into the wall. That way, she wouldn't see me. At least I didn't think she would.

You could never really tell, with mother.

These days, however, the days she was her sweet, nurturing, motherly self were decreasing. A couple years ago, one week had only one day of rage, fiery, hot-tempered mother storming down the halls towards my room. But those gaps have been growing rapidly, and now weeks only have one day of the good mom. The good mom would send some servants to make you hot chocolate, or buy you some new shoes at her favorite store, but not yours, because it was "too young and hippy".

Just like I expected, Mother stormed out of the room. She thankfully didn't notice me, and it took a lot of willpower to not let out a sigh of relief when she passed the wall I was clinging to. For a fraction of a second, it seemed like I was in the clear. Until I saw what she was dragging along with her out of the room and my eyes widened with terror.