Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the tremors of uncertainty. There, in the distance, stood a figure, a mysterious silhouette draped in a mask and an unusual hat. All she could discern were his eyes, which locked onto hers with an u...
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The rest of the day she couldn't stop thinking about Alex. Despite her attempts to divert her mind, it kept circling back to him. Frustrated with her own distractions, Emily scolded herself in a stern tone, one that even her mother would have applauded. "Emily, stop it," she reprimanded herself. "You have so much to do, no time to waste on daydreaming. Right, okay. Let's get started. This room won't paint itself."
Determined to focus on the task at hand, she prepared her brush and began painting the room that once served as her father's workplace. He had been a writer, which perhaps fuelled her own love for reading. Although it had once been a study, there was no longer any furniture inside except for an old yellow armchair resting in the corner. Despite wanting to clear out the room for years, she couldn't bring herself to part with that particular chair. It held too many cherished memories – of her father reading to her, of tender moments spent in his company. But now, amid all the craziness happening around her, repainting the room felt like a necessary distraction. She dipped her brush into a warm, light brown paint and began applying it to the walls.
This shade is really nice, she thought, a smile tugging at her lips.
Almost like the color of Alex's eyes, she commented, her head tilting as she regarded the freshly painted wall.
Then, with a quick shake of her head, she reprimanded herself, "Wait, why do I even care about his eyes? Ugh, this is pointless."
Feeling annoyed with herself, Emily put the brush down and sat on the floor, trying to gather her thoughts. She couldn't help but wonder how one chance encounter had stirred such a storm within her heart. She decided it was best to immerse herself into a book, that way she wouldn't be able to think about Alex or any of the crazy things that were going on around her. She brewed a cup of chamomile tea, finding comfort in its soothing aroma, and settled into the old yellow armchair with one of her father's beloved books in hand. However, even within the pages of her favourite novel, she couldn't escape thoughts of Alex. Every description, every character, every scent seemed to carry a hint of him. Frustration bubbled inside her, and she couldn't help but yell at herself in exasperation.
"This is so freaking frustrating!" she yelled aloud.
Deciding to call it a night, she attempted to put him out of her mind, repeating the mantra, "New day, new thoughts, no Alex," as she prepared for sleep. She continued whispering the phrase like a lullaby until she finally drifted off. But as the new morning dawned, Emily's exasperation returned. She woke up with a start, sitting up in bed and exclaiming, "Why are you in my dreams? Get out!" She felt the weight of her emotions, unable to rid herself of the persistent thoughts about him.
Deciding to regain some semblance of normalcy in her life, Emily resolved to reestablish her morning routine. The recent unsettling encounters with eerie figures and the constant thoughts of Alex had disrupted her daily life, and she yearned for a moment of peace. After tending to Hazel, Nala, and Spike, she settled on the porch with a book in one hand and a cup of warm coffee in the other. She was determined to distract herself from the persistent thoughts that haunted her. Whenever her mind started to drift toward the eerie figures or thoughts of Alex, she would snap her pink hairband, which was always on her wrist, and tell herself firmly, "Stop it. Seriously." The action served as a reminder to redirect her focus back to the book and away from the unwanted thoughts.
