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Adelaine Colbert, a seventeen-year-old college dropout, family failure and socially awkward. After dropping out of college and destroying her parents' dreams and ambitions she has a plan. Get a job...
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"Life asked Death, why do people love me but hate you? Death replied because you are a beautiful lie and I'm the painful truth."
The smell of delicious and freshly made chocolate chip cookies, both I and grandad made just a couple of minutes ago, circled the room leaving a lingering delectable scent behind. I grip my mug which was now full of whipped cream and marshmallows above the steaming liquid and sipped every so often, not wanting to let go of the mouth watering taste that burned my throat.
It felt like I was drinking alcohol, the burning sensation at the back of your throat, the addiction that came with it as soon as the taste touched your tip of your tongue, the instant feeling of warmth and comfort. The only difference I could seem to find is the lack of side effects and hangovers, thankfully.
It had hit twelve o'clock when the bells rang as we all sat together downstairs, engulfed in my grandfather's thick fluffy blankets which he still had kept years later after Grandma Louisa had died.
Death was most certainly not kind, and we all knew that. I knew it the day I had lost my grandmother, Dad knew it the day he had lost his mum and grandfather most definitely knew it when he had lost his wife, his soulmate and his best friend.
Death snatched anything and anyone it could, luring them out of our existence, somewhere completely unknown to us. It took away our most loved ones, taking the people who were far too good to have died, the ones who had deserved better than life itself, the people who were far too young. In other words, death showed not remorse or any kind of mercy. It was both evil and not doubtlessly cruel but most importantly inevitable.
Even years after heartbreak and grief hit this exact house, her presence was still felt as I looked around the room only to see her pictures scattered everywhere making me feel as if she was sat here with us, trying to convince me to play our usual game of cards, which I won every time, and yet still she wanted a rematch in hope that one day she would win against me.
Shame that the day never came.
Grandma Louisa was a woman of great class and a shocking sense of style, similar to my mum actually, hence why they always got along so well. Our family was her whole entire life so you can imagine her happiness everything a new grandson or granddaughter was born into the family.
Oh, God, she was basically the definition of an angel sent from heaven. The funeral was just as beautiful as her, the beautiful peonies that scattered the ocean before drifting away along with her remain as grandfather spread her ashes was just heartbreakingly beautiful. She had always hated the idea of being abandoned inside a grave for the rest of eternity buried six feet under next to all the worms and bugs she had always been so afraid of so the idea of spreading her across the ocean seemed far more fitting.
