Hope And Faith ✓

17. Hope

Author: What is one life hack that has always helped you?

Faith: Stop overthinking, if you overthink it will make you worry when you worry you get stressed when you get stressed you get anxious and that will lead to a free ticket to depression city. Don't think about ‘what ifs’ and about the future. Don't think about any of that too much. Just live in the present,

And as someone once told me; let the solution to a problem present itself.

~Faith Jennings.

••

I opened the door to the house feeling filthy. It was just a little bit of sand and water but then again when has that ever been the best combination?

I shut the door behind me, I was greeted with a loud voice.

"This is not it, Veronica! You need to—"

"Stop telling me what I need to do you, nincompoop! You need to get your head checked! You are insane!"

Lacey who was seated calmly on the chair drinking a glass of water was the first to see me.

"Ah, Hope," she smiled warmly but I could tell it was forced. "Welcome back." Her tone had an edge to it that told me it was not for me. It was for the two people that were quarrelling.

Dad looked flushed when he turned to look at me. His face was bright red in anger and I saw him take deep breaths. I walked in slowly realising what was going on.

The woman my father was quarrelling with was none other than Veronica Lockhart. My mother. The one who I had not seen in months.

She looked different from the last time I saw her. It was like her break had gone well.

The last time I had seen her, her hair was unkempt, all over the place, she had not washed it in weeks and had even confessed to me that she had lost motivation in anything about life. Now her hair had regained its natural colour, dark ebony that fell into neat locks of curls. Her hair was healthy and from the looks of it well kept. Her pale skin was flawless not covered in dirt like the last time I had seen her, her face was pimple clear. Leaving her hazel eyes to shine out and her blood-red lips to beautify her appearance.

It was almost odd the way we looked nothing alike.

A few months back I had to beg her to shower, plead with her to eat. Because she had fallen too deep into depression after her boyfriend of that time left her.

She had agreed that love was not for her, she hated it. Until she finally agreed that she was not okay and heeded my advice. It had taken her months but she had done it. She had pieced her life back together and here she was, my Mom. My role model.

People adored her, I could still remember when I was too scared to call her up because I thought she had way too many friends for me. She did not, she was human just like I was.

And she would be the perfect actress for the snow-white role. Her best friend Maddi called her Snow instead of Veronica.

And here I was. Drifting off-topic.

My eyes widened as I looked at her. She seemed just as mad as my father did but I did not care. "Mom! You're here!" I squealed like a child and walked up to her.

Her lips curled into a smile. "Hope! My, my, you look gorgeous! At least your father has done something right," as I hugged her I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with her statement.