Risk Taker - (n). someone who risks loss or injury in the hope of gain or excitement
Sara left the dangers of her past. She couldn't confront it while vulnerable and she needed to escape. Stashing more than enough amount of money in her bag, sh...
Sara was up really early. Like 4 o'clock in the morning. She couldn't even believe it herself. I guess, it's normal. Five weeks straight. It started when she set foot in this household. She couldn't sleep.
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For the past five weeks, she would do this. Waking up early in the morning for no apparent reason. Jogging around the neighborhood far away from the estate and then and hour later comes back home and takes a shower. She would start sneaking up the rooftops of the house with a cup of cocoa, letting the cool fresh air kiss her cheeks, while waiting for the sun to rise.
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"My. You're up quite early." Sara washed the empty mug in the sink. "Again," Marta added. "Yeah, it's a miracle how I put up with this really," Sara shrugged while putting back the mug where it's supposed to be.
Marta busied herself with Sara's breakfast. "Marta, I told you. I could just eat a cereal. I'll just get some in the pant--" but Marta being Marta, she insisted. "Sara dear! Let me cook! Here! It's already done!" She smiled and placed the food on fine china and served it to Sara. Sara's eyes crinkled.
"Thank you," she breathed in the aromatic smell. Marta gazed at her lovingly, knowing she did a great job with her cooking yet again. "Oh, I almost forgot. Mrs. Claven left this for you five minutes ago in air mail. I was instructed to give it to you right now."
Marta held a silver platter and opened. Sara's eyes jut. "Just open it." It was a medium sized box wrapped in a mustard yellow fabric and blue bow. Gingerly, she ripped it open.
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