Confession. | J. H.

I. Normality.

Hello, dear readers. Here is the first chapter of my story. It's a prelude I'd say.
Enjoy and do not hesitate to express your thoughts in the comments.

Thank you!
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I wake up feeling very refreshed. I get up, take my clothes and go to my bathroom to have an even more refreshing shower.
Today is an activity day, therefore I put on
a tennis skirt and a loose T-shirt made from
a breathable fabric which certainly did not lay next to any natural fibers.

I grab my tennis bag and head outside my room to eat breakfast. My morning routine
is not surprising nor does it differ throughout the week, well, this is why it's called a routine.

I eat some toasts and drink my favorite warm cocoa with oat milk (milk protein allergy) and look at the watch displayed on the screen of the microwave. It's 9:36 - my training starts at 10:00, so I have plenty of time to read
a morning newspaper (or at least the part related to art and history - not a popular choice) - there's none unfortunately in today's issue, that's why I end up sitting on a couch watching an episode of Phineas and Ferb - totally addictive.

"Mona? Are you ready to play?" I hear a voice of my coach.

"Kinda. Just give me 4 minutes 36 seconds to finish this episode and I'll be right out -
if that's not a problem."

I heard a soft chuckle.

"Okay. I give you 4 minutes and 34 seconds, don't be late!"

"You know I won't" I respond with a giggle.

I like people who surround me, they are kind, genuine and generous. They have been taking care of me since I was born, they are my family and a great part of my life.

I finished the episode, grabbed my bag and walked out to my garden to join Lina on the tennis court.

"Still kinda late." Lina smirked almost unnoticeably.

"What did you say, coach?"

"Nothing, Mona. Do a warm up, run a little."

So I did, and then we continued with our regular training - serves and volleys, along with my beloved smashes.

"Miss June, there's someone waiting for you in the main hall." I heard a familiar, though emotionless voice of our housekeeper.

"Mona would suffice, miss Donovan, but thank you. Did the guest introduce themselves perhaps?"

"Not really, miss June. But the guest is a he. Seems to be a little older than you, miss"

"Thank you, miss Donovan. I'll be there in
a minute."

Who could it be? A guest? My guest? Maybe daddy has invited someone to meet me?

All I could do, besides wondering about the identity of the guest, of course, was taking a shower and changing my (quite sweaty) tennis clothes into some of a guest-receiving appropriate nature.

"My first guest ever will have to wait, I guess."
I thought, still quite excited as to what do I owe the pleasure.
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The journey has begun.
xx
M.