She wants to escape it all. She runs from it. She gets a chance to leave it all behind. And she does, without thinking twice.
Gabrielle leaves France, her home country, when she finds an offer to babysit in London. She doesn't have a lot of ex...
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I wake up early. Looking at the clock tells me it's a few minutes after four in the morning. I give up on sleeping because I know it's no use and there's not a chance I'll fall back asleep.
I had a nightmare again. I'm not even surprised. I don't remember when was the last time I had a nice dream. Usually, I wake up in the middle of the night screaming or crying out or even crying. Sometimes I just wake up with a gasp. And sometimes the nightmare will chase me until the morning. These are the worst because a lot of things happen at once and I just can't stop it.
I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I don't let myself think about anything. I'm starting to learn how to do that and it's helping me not to overthink things and I also get less panicky.
But I still have two hours to spare. It's still dark outside, but I decide I should go out for a bit. Not far away, just go for a walk and get some fresh air before the sun rises high and it gets hot.
I take a shower and then quickly dress in black leggings and a tank top with a jacket on top. And then I go out of my room as quietly as I can, walking through the completely silent house without making too much noise.
Lucky people who are able to sleep at this hour.
I manage to get out of the house without waking anyone up and then just walk to the street, looking left and right, trying to decide where I want to go.
I choose left and I walk to nowhere in particular.
•••
I'm just finishing up my breakfast when Rosanna walks in the kitchen. She stops when she sees me and her eyes look at the clock. "Good morning. You're early today," she greets.
I swallow the yoghurt down and then reply, "Good morning. I couldn't sleep." I shrug and look down at the table, acting as if that's a simple explanation.
"And you've already eaten. Yoghurt only?" Rosanna asks, still not moving from the spiot she stopped.
I look down at the yoghurt, half-empty already. "Yeah. Not that hungry."
Rosanna tsks and shakes her head. "While I'm responsible for this kitchen, you won't have only a yoghurt for breakfast, kid." She says this like it's a final thing and she won't allow any arguing. She already starts rummaging through the cabinets before I can even open my mouth to say anything back.
"No, it's fine. I really don't eat that much ..." I trail off when she sends me a stern glare.
"Yes. I noticed that, too. And that is going to change," she decides. "I'm going to make pancakes. And you have no excuse not to eat them."
I don't argue with her any further. I know it's no use because she sounds final. "Alright. But you have to let me help you," I tell her my condition.
Rosanna looks at me for a moment, narrowing her eyes. "Come here, then," she says on a sigh, giving up.
I happily oblige and go help her prepare breakfast for the family.
