She scurried back to her bedroom.
Allison's room was bright and colorful, yellow and pink. She didn't design it herself per say, her mother did, but she loved it.
Arriving to her bedroom, Allison opens and closes the door, rushing to her bed to lays down. Getting comfy in the silky sheets, the young girl lays. Having troubles sleeping, she stares at her ceiling, the light pink boring ceiling in pitch darkness. Bedtime stories were apart of her nighttime routine, to not get such an important part of such routine. Allison would have troubles sleeping. Except when she was super duper tired, where she just passes out from exhaustion, but that's a different story.
Instead of a book, the young Spencer uses her mind, her imagination to tell herself a story. As she does now for years to come, when her mom wasn't around. Which was offended.
You would think she would just ask a maid or a butler, but no. She wanted her mother.
__________
It was overcast that day, the wind howling, a storm was brewing. Allison's dad, aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins all stood around in a makeshift circle. They stood around a casket. The casket of a Naomi June-Spencer, also known as Allison's mom.
The coffin was dark stained brown oak, inside lied 3 fluffy white pillows with the body of Naomi June-Spencer. You didn't really know her, but Allison did. It was her mom after all, the mom that kiss her goodnight before bed, the one that was never around but knew her so well, the mom that when she got the chance would tuck her in and read her a story.
As the priest finished the thingy priest do at funerals, Allison stood beside her dad looking at the somehow still beautiful dead mother. Her hair stood out from the darkness of the coffin and pristine white of the pillows. Bright curly orange hair. Reminds me of Merida. If Allison was allowed, she would reach down into the casket to play with the vibrant hair. Like she once did 2 nights before the incident. Her father kept a close eye though. If she was caught touching her dead mothers hair. . Well. Not getting bedtime stories isn't the worst thing.
"Come on Allison. I got a meeting to get too."
"A meeting! On mom's funeral day."
Allison kept that thought to herself.
Talking back to your strict dad is never a good idea.
Allison says "Good-dnight" to her mom and waves goodbye.. Goodbye!
