Melany Fellington is a young girl who lives in poverty in a changed world. She doesn't have what others have the room to have, but family made what she has more than enough. During substandard times of oppression, a fatal interference threatens her...
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(Sunday, August 19th)
My bathroom door was fixed earlier this morning by Ange while I was sleeping because I saw her, but I pretended to be asleep. Then I awoke later in the morning with the same cutting pain in my knuckles, but the knives that continuously cut at my heart every second of the day only hurt worse. The guilt and shame hurt so much worse.
I finished my morning routine, then I put on my work dress attire of a black headband, skinny blue jeans, a black shirt, and fresh black kicks...
My eyes remained unmoving from the shoes in my hand as my thoughts about the objects started to become loud, 'Who am I kidding? These shoes are NOT fresh. They're okay I guess.'
I put on my black tennis shoes, yes that's better, then I started my cleaning assignments, but not before putting the rolled gauze, and the hydrogen peroxide in my bag to reapply if needed, leaving my bedroom and mechanically starting my tasks in the guest bedrooms.
When dawn approached and I walked up one of the double staircases, I started doing my tasks in the hallways, my mind tuning out the pain in my hands, but soon my gaze locked on a glimpse of Eurella holding her son Olson's hand while they walked towards me, I'm assuming to walk him back to his bedroom.
The woman has on a perfectly fitted light grey pantsuit and black high heels while her braided hair is tied up into a large bun. She has a light amount of makeup on her face and light pink lipstick that was gorgeous on her light brown skin, her skin that shimmered in any source of light naturally.
Olson was talking to his mother excitedly as she looked down at him and listened with undivided attention, and soon I heard her son's voice tune into my range of hearing, "Thank you for taking me to see my godmothers mommy! I haven't seen them in so long. It felt really good to be together again." He appeared to be reminiscing the times that they spent together as he smiled to himself. "You were there with us too and it made me feel a lot better!" The boy exclaimed with exuberance then he smiled up at his mother.
She smiled down at him, the truest and most unguarded smile lighting up her face that I've ever seen. "You don't have to thank me Olson. Making sure that you are loved is what I do. It's what I will always do. You are my son," She said while she ruffled his hair to make him giggle in fits that did not stop until the younger boy had noticed me, his hand lifting to wave at me with a big smile on his face as they got closer to me.
Olson lifted his finger to point at me, but then he stopped himself, as if he remembered that it was rude and he instead used his hand and tugged on his mother's light grey dress pants, trying to get her attention, "..Mommy look! It's that lady that helped me before w-when..." He slowly trailed off his words, his small voice noticeably quieter than before. "...when I showed d-daddy my a-art that I d-drew and...h-he-" He mumbled then, his voice thinner, but he stopped talking while his hopeful gaze saddened at the muscles, sinking, his glossy eyes downcast, looking down at the ground when they continued walking as Eurella's dark brown eyes became full of worries as she saw her son grow sad firsthand.
