Rosie's P. O. V.
I opened the door to my room and belly flipped onto my bed. A very loud and attractive yawn escaped from my mouth as I felt a wave of tiredness overcome me. My mind was filled with thoughts of what happened in Kyle's hospital room just a couple hours ago. It felt like I was floating higher and higher on a pathway of happiness, and I never wanted to come down.
My chest was filled with a strange, new feeling that I don't think I could ever get used to. The feeling soared through my blood and filled me to the core of my being. I didn't understand why I was feeling like this; I mean, it was just Kyle Acton. The boy who I've always noticed— intentionally and unintentionally. The boy who I knew felt insecure about the things he did in fears that he would somehow mess up and displease his family.
I knew many things about Kyle that I often wondered how I remembered most of it. He and I had attended the same elementary and middle school. We grew up together, but never bonded as friends. Sure, we had some mutual friends and went to some of the same social gatherings, but I never dared make a move to actually start up a conversation with him.
To be honest, I didn't think he noticed someone like me. A "nerd".
But now, after what he confessed of knowing about me and the card game/conversation we shared, I was okay with the thought of being acquainted with him on a friend level. I misjudged him. He wasn't as lonely or self-centred as I once thought he was. He was actually a very cool guy that was fun to spend time with.
Thoughts of the day crowded my mind I opened the door to my bedroom and belly flopped onto my bed. My eyes just began to flutter shut when a thunderous bang caused me to soar to my knees as my senses became quite alert.
What on earth was that noise? I exclaimed internally, stood up, and got off my bed. I re-opened my bedroom door and walked down the small hallway of our tiny home; passing photographs of me in my childhood and the little amount of family I actually knew.
In the kitchen, I found my mother bent on her knees picking up glass shards from the black and white checkered floor.
"Mom?" I asked, avoiding pieces of glass that count cut my bare feet. "What happened? Are you okay?"
She looked up from the ground and shot me a jeering smile. "I just dropped a stack of plates on the floor. What do you think happened, Rosaline?" She retorted, a hint of anger in her tone.
A pang of hurt coursed through me as I swallowed a small lump that was beginning to form in my throat. Mom only used my full name when I was in trouble or if she and I were having a serious conversation about a not-So pleasant topic. But she never spoke to me that way. It made me feel like I did something wrong. She looked angry at me.
"I-I'm sorry, Mom. Do... do you want some help?"
She sighed. "I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't mean to snap. I've, I've just been so stressed lately and it's getting to be too much. I shouldn't be taking it out on you."
I gave her a light smile though the gloomy feeling I was just introduced to. "It's okay, Mom. I get it."
And I helped my mother clean up the stack of plates that had smashed into our kitchen floor.
•°•°•°•
"Baby, you're a fiiiirrrework!!" I belted out as I folded the clothing from the third load laundry I had done that day for my mother. Today was Saturday, and my mom was working one of her longer shifts at the hospital. I took the day off at my work to tidy up around the house to surprise for Mom.
