there was a woman named Nicole who after losing everything she loved set out to take her own life deep in the woods. 𝖳𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽 was on his way home from his father's farm, getting ready for the storm which was a Category 4 storm tha...
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Flashback Nicole hunter
Nothing much had changed since I left for Texas. My father wouldn't dare alter a single thing; he preferred my mother's way of bringing life into our home. Every room still reflected her essence, from the intricate lace doilies to the framed photographs lining the walls.
I was too young to remember her, but the old snapshots had woven a connection in the fabric of my memories. Each picture told a story, a trace of her laughter echoing in the hall, her smile forever caught in time.
My father had her makeup and perfume collection untouched on top of the bedroom dresser.
Pastels of different shades blended into a forgotten longing. Some family members had urged my father to move on, but he clung to the past while life continued.
Swinging my feet out of bed, the cold wooden floor made me shiver, a reminder of the crisp morning air.
Memories washed over me as I glanced around the room. Photos of my father and me, the joyous grins captured in mid-laughter, made my heart swell with hope. I longed to share that sort of love with my own child someday.
I remembered the day I moved out with Jacob; my father wasn't too happy it still lingered in my mind.
However, Jacob with his calming charm, had convinced my father that moving would mean nothing less than starting afresh, even if it meant leaving behind the home that had cradled my childhood.
As I stepped into the hallway, I could hear laughter rippling downstairs, their joyous sounds weaving through the corridor like a comforting melody.
The old wooden stairs creaked under my steps, each noise pulling at my heartstrings. I gripped the banister, pushing aside the memories, and finally making my way down to the kitchen. I paused slightly, taking in the sight.
There sat my father, his back towards me, and Jacob was at the table, his mug of coffee perched in his hands, a smile gracing his face. As I walked further in, I caught Jacob's attention.
"Good morning, my love," he said, standing to kiss my cheek and pulling me into a warm embrace. My father turned slightly, peeking over the newspaper.
"Morning princess," he replied. as I settled into my chair, eyes widening at the feast before me. The table overflowed with crispy bacon, fluffy French toast, and fresh fruits.
"Good morning, boys. Where's my breakfast?" I joked, pretending to be offended as I glanced at them.
"You're late missy," my father said, sipping his coffee.
"Really?" I asked as Jacob brought over a plate piled high with French toast and strawberries.
"We wouldn't forget our favorite girl," he said, kissing the top of my head.
