𝗠𝘆 𝗙𝗲𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘆 𝗞𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 😼

Ch 4: New city and....kitty?

Krit stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the small house before him, his eyes scanning the exterior with a critical gaze. The paint was peeling slightly, and the front yard needed a bit of upkeep. It wasn't the type of house he was familiar with. This house was smaller, simpler, more rustic.

He couldn't help but scoff inwardly. Raised in a sprawling mansion, surrounded by all the luxuries and privileges money could buy, the sight of this humble abode was jarring to him. The house in front of him was decent by most standards, but to Krit, it seemed lackluster.

His lips twisted into a grimace as he thought about his current circumstances. He couldn't believe his father had sent him here, to this tiny house. It was a far cry from the opulence he was used to, and he didn't like it one bit.

He dragged his large suitcases and bags up the short walkway to the front door. He muttered under his breath about the inconvenience of having to live in a place so far below his usual standards.
Once he reached the door, he fumbled for the keys this house owner had given him while he came to welcome him from the station, struggling to unlock the door with all his belongings in hand. Finally, he managed to push it open and stumbled inside.

With a resigned sigh, he shouldered his duffle bag and made his way to the front door of the house. He paused for a moment, steeling himself before turning the knob and stepping inside. The interior of the house was cozy and simple, clean but well-worn. It was obvious that the people who lived here took care of it, but it was nothing for Krit.

He flicked on the light switch and stepped into the bathroom. It was small with barely enough room to turn around. With a single sink, a toilet, and a chipped bathtub. The plumbing groaned as he tested the water, and the mirror was streaked with toothpaste splatters.

"What the fuck?! It's not less than any hell. How can anyone take a bath in that small tub like that. Oh god I'd better die than living here for fuck sake," he groaned loud, holding his head.

He's so frustrated and tired with all these things, he just flopped himself on the bed and instantly regret it.

"What the.... is it a bed or rock? Why it's so hard? How will sleep here? It's not a silk bedsheet!? I've allergies, oh lord! Out of so many places, dad send me here. Why? To die? Am I adopted? Why he did this to me? Ahhhhh!!!" He keep whining and complaining, while doing this, he doesn't know how and when he fall asleep.

Krit's sleep was interrupted by a loud rumble of thunder in the distance. He groaned and opened his eyes, disoriented for a moment as he tried to figure out where he was. The unfamiliar surroundings took a few moments to register, and he slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Another loud bang! And his eyes flying open as a loud clap of thunder rattled the windows. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized that the storm outside was getting worse. The sound of rain lashing against the roof and the occasional flash of lightning lit up the room in intervals.

As he came fully awake he realised, he hadn't stocked up on any food or supplies before heading to this small house. As the sound of raindrops started to patter against the window, he cursed silently to himself. "Now what I'll eat?"

His frustration continued to build as he rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, only to find them bare. He felt like everything is going wrong with him as he had to be stuck in this pathetic house, with no food and no entertainment, alone in this storm. Seems like the universe was conspiring against our dear majesty. He hated feeling vulnerable and helpless like this.

As his frustration mounted, Krit suddenly remembered that his papa had made him some food for his journey as a gesture of love. Perhaps they were still  stashed in his bag pack, waiting to be unearthed. Hope flickered in his chest as he got up from the bed and rummaged through his bag.