ALLE

Chapter Seven

"Oh, you're awake! Here, take these," then the she hurriedly hands me a bottle of organic juice from the environmental-friendly bar we are in. "They say it's good after a deep sleep," she added.

"Wait, what?! How long has it been?!" I sipped it anxiously fast. Maaaan, this orange liquid takes the dead back to life.

"Three days and a half." Is there no case I could file her or anyone behind this freakishness who may include the freak, herself—Linda?

I got up from the very comfy seat that's designed like a strawberry, gathered my belongings from the table—phone with a dead battery and pepper spray that failed to protect me.

"Wait, it was a joke. It's still been three hours Ms. Higgins," she blocked my way when I was about to leave. And how do I make sure she wasn't lying? Ohh well, she does look like an angel though with her light blue sleeves with cloud prints and white slacks—all she needs is a pair of wings. As far as I was told, angels don't lie. Of course, I checked my watch for the date and time. I can't believe I'm saying this but thank God it's true! I hate to miss grand events such as the fall of Troy—that will have to wait. Right now, I got a Levebrebru... or whatever it is, to handle.

"So you must be the girl with funny glasses? Why aren't you wearing them?" It is not like it is my business because first, I am no optometrician, but my dear mother did emphasize such description.

"It wasn't medically purchased. The thing was just for my appearance. There is nothing very significant about me because I'm all-plain-looking so Mrs. Higgins got me one."

Well at least she got something for you. All I ever get from her are shitloads of headaches. Also, Miss Angel was not all-plain-looking. My mom was just evil that is why she brags her opinion as if it is to validate someone forcibly. I went back to the cushion and looked at her, waiting for herself to be introduced. I can't keep on calling her in my head Miss Angel all the time—that would be femininely and divinely weird.

"Sorry, I'm Sandy. I originally work for the Lefebvre's but they tasked me to be at your side since you are the heir of the company." Heir to what?!

My face looks like pieces from different puzzles put together. Doesn't make sense right? Because really, it does not.

"Kindly explain to me and be sure to use the right words so this volcano in front of you won't erupt. Safety precautions," I warned her. She might look like someone from heaven but the news she's bringing is from the underworld.

"Your mother and Mr. Timothee are getting married on Valentine's Day. They won't be able to conceive anymore due to your mom's age and Mr. Tim's hypogonadism that is why the firstborn has to take over."

I ordered another organic juice so the earthly elements could make me calm and demanded to also pour three drops of vodka to it with a separate shot of tequila.

"According to the hospital records, Libra was born seconds before me meaning she's the heir. I hate to kill the drama but you got the wrong twin." Why do they always get the wrong twin anyway? Can't they tell the difference that I am the awesome one and Lib is well...the less awesome one?

Sandy got a few papers from her brown envelope then puts them on the table. Those papers looked familiar.

"Libra is not physically fit." I read the documents to which I have also read years ago and laughed on how they think such mild condition is a big deal.

"Why not? Because she's allergic to sunflowers? Come on, you're wasting my time." Her intelligence versus mine is just so incomparable that I'd feel like her brain is the apple and mine are the seeds.

"These are the products we craft and create in the Lefebvre Tournesol," she revealed supporting materials from her bag like Mary Poppins and continues, "...sunflower oil, sunflower seeds, sunflower scents, sunflower chips, sunflower capsules, sunflower diaries. The list is too long and still ongoing for further discoveries. Now, would you sacrifice your sister's incapability for your freedom?"

I haven't even decided for my future—which college to attend and what degree and now here's this woman whom I just met, deciding it for me. I can't just take this injustice. My existence should not be dictated by those silly yellow petals and same goes for Libra's.

"I hate to ruin the sunny excitement but my mom might have missed to mention this highlight information about me so I will do the honor. I am a dark person and I think that that illness alone disqualifies me. Goodbye."

Once again, I carried my ass up, got my stuffs, finished the organic orange whiskey and a shot of strong tequila. Since Sandy already brought the products, I tasted the sunflower chips and pretentiously coughed. "Ohh sorry, I guess I also am allergic. Not to the sunflower but to the crap all of you have given to me."