It was ten years on the dot. I couldn't believe it, my parents lost their lives ten years ago. Snapping me from my thoughts, my phone began vibrating on my nightstand.
'Incoming call from Miss Scotch'
"Morning Miss Scotch" I let a yawn slip out, it was rude but she didn't mind.
"Good morning Cam, I will be over at 7 with some flowers. Then we can go make sure the cafe is all set" lingering in her voice was sadness, but it was easy to tell she put in her best effort to suppress it.
"Ok see you then, I better get ready". We both dismissed ourselves and I managed to get out of bed with one attempt. It was already 6 o' clock, just my luck.
Slugging over to my dresser I pulled out my maroon sweater, which was my fathers. Then a pair of denim jeans, slightly ripped in a few places to but it'll do.
Small patches of sunlight slipped through the window in my bathroom. I placed my clothes down and stripped, throwing my pyjamas on my bedroom floor. Unfortunately, I couldn't resist looking at the uneven skin on my stomach, it wasn't an overly large patch but it was bigger than I wanted it to be. Honestly I didn't remember the fire reaching my stomach but then again I hardly remembered that night at all. Apart from the fact I lived and now own my parents cafe, Avalon Aroma.
My parents worked hard on it, so I'll make sure it stays successful until I perish myself. Miss Scotch is absolutely astonishing at baking, every month she comes up with a new mouth watering recipe and lucky me I'm the person to test them. My register boy is Damien Graves, to be completely honest he is so gorgeous. Long brown locks that stopped just above his hips. Slightly tanned skin that no one can ever spot a flaw on and most importantly he has a fucking beautiful ass. Like holy hell! If I wasn't a pansy I'd tap that. Moving on. The barista is my close friend Martella Stein. My gosh she's a sweetheart, her personality matches her appearance. Sweet and delicate. Her short black hair frames her high cheek bones perfectly and her round Harry Potter glasses always sit loosely on her nose. Myself on the other hand, I'm far from perfection. Messy black hair that looks like some MySpace jerk from 2009. A fragile, ghost white body and no muscles what so ever. Mostly because I spend my time inside rewatching Twilight or American Horror Story. Evan Peters is an absolute angel may I add.
After at least 20 minutes I hopped out of the shower, drying off my skeleton body. Using a small sponge I dabbed cream onto my scar. I know it's not going to disappear but the doctors suggest I use it, honestly I don't even know what it is.
6:40 and I've just been awkwardly dancing around the room to whatever crap they're playing on the radio when the front door bell chimes. I speed down the stairs to be met with Miss Scotch, holding flowers and a plastic container. Condensation had began in the container so I knew it was something warm.
"Come on in" I ushered her inside and followed her small dawdling figure into the living room.
"I have some lovely brownies in here sweetpea, would you like them now?" My eyes lit up at the mention of brownies.
"Yes please Miss Scotch, I have no food in the fridge and I'm running on an empty stomach" I opened the container to reveal three thick chocolate squares.
"Ten year anniversary, I can't believe it" I commented before tucking in.
"Me too darling, your parents would be so proud of you. Taking on the cafe and being so strong for yourself and others" my stomach tied in knots as Miss Scotch's gaze dropped to the floor.
I forced the last brownie down my throat and started to put my shoes on.
Miss Scotch took me under her wing after that fire. My family's happiness stolen by deep red flames. The only thing I remembered from that night was a man, made of light. As crazy as it sounds, he saved me. His whole being was a blinding yellow light. I couldn't figure out many features accept his large, intimidating wings. Ripping from his back. My mind goes blank after that, but it couldn't have been a hallucination could it?
