Sin City Leaders

A day in Richi life

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆┊ ┊ ★⋆┊ ◦★⋆ ┊ . ˚

˚★ Personal journal 101 

༺☆༻ Day: SUNDAY, 27 JUNE, '20 ༺☆༻

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It's a miracle that I'm still alive. ヽ(≧Д≦)ノ

I was brought in this house when I was 7 and even after 20 years, not a single thing has changed. These leaders still put me on edge whenever they hit the door of the Hawthorne mansion with their untimely presence. I must add they're kind to me just because they don't stab a fork in my hand whenever I mess up their food even after all these years. Sigh* I, myself also haven't changed for the good, still a dimwit.                                                                                                                              But the worst thing about them? They change their mood like your wannabe fashionista bestie would change clothes. You could never guess when they're pissed. And if they're pissed, one could only wish what kind of casket he would like in his funeral.

So, let's start from the beginning.  ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dear Diary,   ☆★☆                                                                                                                   ｡° today was supposed to be a good day. I woke up early, finished all the chores and had eggs and bacon for breakfast. Even Kian (master, as I call him) didn't give me a complaint today. But all I knew was he saving my energy for the evening when I'd almost burn all of my calories trying to prevent myself from falling on my face cause OH. MY. HOLY. GOD. Look, who decided to pay me I mean master a visit. 

Dear God, a sincere prayer, no dead bodies today please.  （;≧皿≦）

And, one might think God has listened to my prayer cause 6 hours passed and not a single drop of blood I had to wipe off the floor. Yet. You can never let your guard down or you'll get hurt. I'm a hardcore TVD (The Vampire Diaries) fan and believe me when I say, they're worse than vampires.

I try to keep my nerves together while the coffee beans are brewing and as I'm stirring the third cup of black coffee, I recall what it's like to have them over. It's like a feast. They come and eat and eat. The older ones drink unlimited alcohol and the younger ones have coffee. Normally they wouldn't be caught dead having proper breakfast, lunch or even dinner. But miraculously, they always have an appetite whenever they come here. Probably because they all grew up here and used to having meals together. Like actual siblings. Not to mention, their favorite task of the day is teasing me.  

Suddenly Greta comes by my side and drawls "Hey, miss Amira wanted to know if her coffee got lost in the kitchen." The true torture starts now. Just wait, I'll give you a nice introduction. 

 "I'm going, Greta." I said, "Im going." I try to smile despite of this feeling in my heart turning bitter than the black coffee I'm carrying. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ                                                                                 

Now Dear Diary, have I EVER mentioned how luxurious the Hawthorne mansion is? I guess not.

As one of the most amenity rich private estates in the country, the Hawthorne mansion is in a league of it's own. Not only because hidden deep within the restricted area, there's a heavily guard gated villa that promises an combination of privacy and exclusivity, situated at a mere 10 min commute from the mansion. But also, indoors, the 30,000 square feet perfectly manicured grounds include a shooting range, a tennis pavilion, a bowling space, poker tables, a rich bar and an enchanting outdoor pool with a skyline view of the city. A sports lover's dream come true if you ask me.