Messed Up Life

England

I looked out the window. The plane was dipping down, landing onto the runway where it ran for a while before coming to a gradual stop.

I was using a grey shirt with dark denim pants and a navy blue overcoat. I travel very heavily. For five days in London, I brought a brown handbag and a navy suitcase. That was quite a lot. But the navy suitcase was very empty. Of course, a trip to London without shopping? Just useless. And really stupid.

My father and I were traveling in business class. He was tapping his knee... Nervously...? Was that it?

A thought harvested itself in my mind and I giggled. My father looked at me strangely, but shrugged when I shook my head, biting my lip.

Ah ha! He still loved her!! And he was nervous that she didn't. I bit my lip so hard I think I might have drawn a bit of blood.

After we arrived at our hotel, Intercontinental Park Lane Hotel. The service was impeccable and our suite was amazing. We each had a separate room. I neatly unpacked all my clothes and arranged them in stacks on the shelves. I had a refreshing bath in the tub and decided on a teal blouse with ripped jeans and a khaki jacket. I slipped on some boots and grabbed my hand bag.

We were going to visit Mum first.

Queen Elizabeth Hospital.

I took a deep breath. Sure, in the letter, she had seemed like such a nice person. But... What if everything wasn't what it seemed? What if it was all a lie? A clever facade?

"Vivian!! Time to go!" Dad called out for me in a shaky voice. I too, was nervous and terrified can though for what reason, I had no idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ms Coral Woods, please. I believe that is Room 43, Bed 5, the ICU," Dad asked. The man at the desk checked some documents,"I am terribly sorry, sir, but Room 43 is currently unavailable due to a sudden symptoms of Ebola in a certain patient. For your safety and health, we will have to have it checked out before we can allow any visitors inside. Do not worry, the room will be open by Thursday."

Dad thanked the man and we left the hospital.

"We'll just have to extend the trip. I'll tell Perry to fly The Millenium Falcon here on Thursday night to pick us up," Dad rang up Perry and told him about it.

I know. We own a private jet. Why do we still travel in Business Class, you ask? Well, Dad wanted me to grow up like a normal child. So, oh well.

This called for a shopping trip to take my mind off of things. I had rented a Ferrari and drive it to Leicester Square. Most of the best clothes were from there, Kelly had told me.

The mall was huge. I jumped out and paid the cab guy. I rushed from stall to stall. Should I choose this red dress, or that one? I couldn't decide which to go to, so I decided to start with Target. All comfortable clothing comes from there. 

I bought some plain, simple long-sleeved, shirts, together with a few pairs of stockings, pants and tights.

Next was H&M. I got some basic clothing too, and a purple with white polka-dots dress that reached my knees.

Moving on. Zara. No need to say no more. Soon, I left Zara carrying 4 bags of clothes, including a long silver dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves, a romper with flowery patterns, and many others.

Another was Mango. Yellow and bright dresses joined the pile.

I was struggling with the bags, but I could survive one more.

I scanned the shops for any interesting looking things.

Big Black letters popped out above a sparse shop.

DEMOLITION.

I took one look at the shop and knew that I would have no more hands.

I quickly dumped the bags in my car and rushed back up.

Ripped jeans and torn stockings lined the walls. Rock vests were folded on the shelves. Combat boots and sandals stood on the ground.

Miniskirts, fishnet stockings and tank tops were everywhere.

The world came down on me. I grabbed items from the walls and tried every single one of them on.

I left with 7 bags of stuff and walked to the carpark. I chose a silver traveling-bag from Rimowa and brought everything to the car.

I found a piece of paper on my car. I read it over.

Sup whoever you are. You gotta come to this SICK party.