Kylie Flores P.O.V.
I am jolted awake by sunlight flooding the room. What time is it? Where am I?
Disoriented, I attempted to open my eyes. The light is stabbing. My head is throbbing, my throat is raw, and my stomach is roiling. Is this what a hang-over feels like? I wouldn't know. I've never had one. Until now. I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths, and lie still, trying to get my bearings. Last night was one of the greatest nights of my life. I think. But then again, it could have turned into one of the worst. I don't remember much past a certain point. I can hear kids' voices from a few rooms away. The smell of bacon wafts into the room, a distinct reminder that I'm not home, in my bed, where I should be. My mother grew up in a kosher, Jewish home. Even though she's more agnostic than Jewish these days, old habits die hard; she'd never cook bacon. I give it another go, allowing my eyes another peek at the world. Slowly, gradually, without making any sudden moves, I glance around, taking in my surroundings. A partial view of an unfamiliar bedroom comes into focus. There's a dresser in the cones, where a mess of snow globes, stuffed animals, and Barbie
dolls fight for space.
YOU ARE READING
From What I Remeber
Novela JuvenilI DO NOT OWN THIS STORY. THIS IS A REAl BOOK I JUST PUT ON WATTPAD FOR PPL WHO WANT TO READ IT. AUTHORS ARE STACY KRAMER AND VALERIE THOMAS!!!THESE ARE THE OWNERS THIS STORY LOOK THEM UP!!! thank u
