Blue Sunflowers [discontinued]

05

     

F I V E :  b r e a k f a s t 

      Whatever her dream was, it was a blessed nightmare. Historia saw her mother at least trying to be friendly with her, accepting her, but the thing that made her cry was that, it will never happen. Never.

      It felt so good to be able to cry in your sleep, not being able worry about sniffling and getting discovered made it even more better. It was like you were really crying, but in your dreams, yet tears still drop.

      The horrid part about it was, her eyelids were swollen and her eyes were reddish.

      Historia wondered on how she will get rid of it, but she sighed bitterly, for she was about to be late for school. Realizing that she was sleeping on her mother's bed, she guessed that her mother was probably outside the room. She searched for Alma on her personal room, the bathrooms, utility, attic, basement, living room . . . Alma was nowhere to be seen.

      The petite doll-like, blonde girl sighed once again, wondering why it hurt when she was already used to it. She marched up to the kitchen to find something to eat, to get a fill of her food, to break her fast.

      Her eyes were veiled by gloom and weariness, but her pupils dilated upon the food laid before her upon the table. It was on this white, gold-lined, round plate, with shiny silverware beside it that glistened under the sunlight. The sinner's daughter smiled, her rosy, soft lips well-accentuated with her beam. On the plate was two slices of toast, and a small portion of cheese. She touched it, it was cold and stale, hard and unappetizing. It held no enticing aroma, nor exciting colors - but the hungry child grabbed it, bit it, and munched on it ravagely, eyes fixed upon the minute and hour hands of the clock, the second hand ticking slowly.

      The usual word after receiving something was thank you. But to her, three words were marked upon her mind- I love you Mom.

      She bit the end of it, sinking her teeth with all her might for the bread had gone quite difficult to chew. She twisted the crust, turning her head sideways, then jolted as it tore off. The lonely child smiled, as what she always does, although her personality was the opposite of what she does.

      After a few aggressive bites and continuous chews, Historia prepped herself up for school. She brushed her blonde tresses, and put it up into a loose ponytail. Her outifit was simple, yet layered for she wore a glittery shirt over a thin fleece sweater, black leggings over a pleated miniskirt. Upon her lips was a thin layer of gloss, and her shoes were blue doll flats. She grabbed her bag, filled with all her necessary supplies.

      She made sure she turned off all the lights, locked all the doors, sealed all windows, and closed the gate. Her small steps echoed againts the red-brick pavement, as she jogged all the way to the bus stop. Surely, the driver would be mad at her for forgetting to ride on the bus last evening, but she hoped for the best.

      The bus halted in front of her, its brakes screeching like a ligated cat. Historia put on a tight, forced smile as the doors opening, folding as it did. On the maneuver was the blonde old man that always manned the bus, his lazy hazel eyes and moustache ever still the same, all the same parts of Hannes.

      "Aye, hop on kid." He chided, "I thought you were lost last night, I almost tried calling for the cops. . ." His raspy voice was at least trying to smooth things out. "But hey, I'm kinda glad to see ya living."

      "Just kinda?" Historia stressed, furrowing her brows in a mock manner.

      Hannes then chuckled, "I don't know, but at least I'm glad you exist, Christa."