The Dying Garden

Chapter 2

I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs and instantly shot up out of bed. I quickly took a shower, brushed my teeth and hair and headed to the kitchen, where was the kitchen anyway? I started walking down hallways, up some stairs and down others until i found the living room. When I got to the living room, I was greeted by a familiar face. Ingrid was smiling at me, and I tried to make the best smile I could.

"Good morning Ms. Moreales. Would you like breakfast?" she asked politely

"Mhm" I replied, my mind focused on my father.

Ingrid nodded and led me to the kitchen where a buffet was placed on the the long mahogany table. I thanked her and served myself. After breakfast, I asked Ingrid if I could walk around the house until my father woke up, she said I could just as long as I didn't go around opening locked doors. So I started my walk, I opened the first door on my left which was a very large library. I started walking around and found a book that looked interesting. As I went to go grab it, the shelf started to move. It all happened in the matter of seconds. One minute I was in a library, next I was in a garden. I quickly turned around and saw the same bookshelf and pulled on the same book, I was back at the library. I jumped at the sound of someone calling my name.

"Angela!! Where have you gone ?!?"

I quickly ran in a different direction of the bookshelf. Halfway across my run from the bookshelf I bumped and fell onto a man, the same man that carried my luggage to my room.

"Excuse me sir, I never got the chance to thank you for bringing  my stuff to my room for me Mr..?"

"Jeffrey, my name is Jeffrey, And that is my Job Ms. Morales"

I smiled at him and asked if my father had woken up yet. I had been informed that he was awake, and asking for me as well. I quickly made my way to my fathers room, with the help of Jeffrey. He looked even more sick than he did yesterday.

"Angela? Is that you?"

I just answered with a quiet 'yes sir'. I love my father, but I never really knew him. I was a lot closer with my mom, she knew me better than I knew myself. She died a few days after my 15th birthday. My father was so heart broken with the fact that I was a spitting image of my mom, he sent me to go live with my aunt in Michigan. My father was always too busy for me, but I understand why, he was a father, widow and a very famous author. I just hope I don't grow too attached to him during these few months that I'm here.

I slowly lye down beside my father, careful not to hurt him while I do so. I have so much I want to say, in such little time. I just wish I could take back all the times I was mean and disrespectful towards him. I love him so much and sometimes I feel like he doesn't love me as much I wish he did. He started to open his mouth but no words came out. I began to say something, but my words got cut off by my fathers coughing. I sat up a little and saw his arm stretched out to grab a glass of water. I quietly got up to hand my father his water. He began to speak very softly, but just enough for me to hear him.

"Angela? I have to tell you something about your mother"

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Hi!!!!!
Hehehe I left you on a cliff hanger
I feel like I'm talking to no one
😂😂 that's okay though
*boop*