Current change

When I was four, my dad and I would spend hours and hours at home playing dress-up. He'd buy me pink dresses of different shades. In the evenings, we'd take the game to the garden, where in my little fairytale world, we, the royals, had tea parties, and my dad was always the king. He'd tell me over and over again that no matter what, I'd always be his little princess. Mom would return home later, too tired and sore from work to join the festivities, but in my little royal eyes, it was the king who I adored. He was my hero, my muse, my knight in shining armor.

Then one day, Dad got a job in Spain, and so my king had to leave. He told me to be brave and that he'd be home before I even knew it. I was hesitant at first, but as the princess and the heir to the throne, I had to be brave for my kingdom.

Then one evening, Mom came home and sat quietly with a strange, sad look in her eyes. It was one that broke my heart. Later on, while rummaging through her stuff, I came across a paper, and that is the day I discovered she had cervical cancer. I was sad, angry, and frustrated. "How could Dad leave us like this?" No calls, no letters, five years of complete silence, and now this. My Queen was dying, and he wasn't doing anything to help.

It's been ten years since my dad, his newly wedded wife, Jeneviv, and I moved to Sandane Bay, a place that had so much comfort towards me since my mother's death. I was forced to vacate Mom and I's little apartment, leaving behind memories that I was not quite ready to let go of. I can still clearly remember it – Angelo General Hospital, Morobline. The place I once called home and my mother's confession before her death. There was no doubt in her voice and the way she calmly spoke to me. I had never seen her more at peace than the day she died, and although I knew deep down this should have given me a sense of comfort, the loss was more unbearable.

The secrets Mom revealed of the past and what is to come were very unrealistic to me, and I, for one, as a child, did not know how to comprehend whether there was truth within her words. But what I did know was Dad was a hard man to love, and loving him meant losing him. That was a price Mom and I had to pay.

Dad arrived two days after Mom's funeral, and despite how much I resented him, I had nowhere and no one else to turn to. I never really got over my loss, and to this day, the little memories I have of her and the good times we had still hurt. I literally lost my appetite and spent most of my days locked up in my room, soaking my pillows with rivers of tears. Although Mom told me it was not Dad's fault before she died, I still could not help but refuse the food, love, attention, and comfort Dad kept offering.

It did not help to enter my Dad's house in Sandane Bay, one that he called home, and be welcomed by a new family. His new family from the new life that he decided to start without Mom and I. They were a pleasant family, picture-perfect to be honest, and as though I was one of their own, they welcomed me with open arms. Dad must have told them all about me when Mom was hospitalized, and although I felt welcomed, I could not help but feel bitterness and jealousy run through my entire being at the sight of this happy family.

Bang!... Crash!... I quickly sat up in bed and quietly listened. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, the seconds ticked by. Crash! Crash! Crash! I quickly leaned against the window pane and pressed my face hard against the glass to get a better view of what was happening outside. I could practically feel my cheek hurt. I still couldn't clearly see because of the misty effect from my breath against the glass, but when I did, it was just a stupid black cat that probably lived next door.

"Wait, a stupid black cat that lives next door?" This time, I practically pressed my whole body and face against the window in an almost standing-up position. The black fluffy culprit had found its safe haven – a cute little girl who quickly picked it up and started kissing and cuddling it. Because of my impossibly horrible view from the distance, I could only pick out a fringe and two pigtails before she ran into the house, away from my view. But there was something I unmistakably picked out for sure – she was extremely cute. Extremely cuter than any normal ten-year-old.

I then looked at the car park where the view was quite clearer to find three identical 2011 Jeep Wranglers parked in line and a tall woman with tanned skin and curls that almost cover her sharp facial features taking out boxes from one of the Jeeps. She looks almost to be in her thirties and from my opinion, she's probably the mother of my mystery princess. I watch in fascination as she carefully takes out each box, carrying them with care to their house and places them on their front porch. I watch for a while until she is joined by a tall man who also looks to be almost in his thirties. I press myself even harder against the glass, hurting my face, but still, I can't get a clearer view of him, so I just assume he's the strange woman's husband. As though they both sensed my watchful eyes, they both turn in sync. I do a double take and jump for my blanket. I have so many questions running wild in my head, like who does the third Jeep belong to and why they're moving in this late, but I decide not to let my curiosity get the best of me and doze off to sleep.

The next day....

"New York City Look so pretty When you look around..." My alarm day plays, stirring me up and out of bed. Gosh, I hate Monday mornings. I brush my teeth and take a quick shower. When I'm done, I quickly throw on my black slightly ripped jeans and pair it with a dark maroon T-shirt with a bold quote which reads "Stay Strong" written in white. "Yeah, I guess I need some positivity in my life." I decide to keep my dressing simple today, so I throw on a pair of leather boots and tie my hair up in an untidy bun, deliberately leaving loose tendrils here and there. I put on some dark eyeliner to bring out my tinted brown eyes and finish off with a dark shade of maroon lipstick. When I'm done, I stare at my reflection as it stares back at me. The T-shirt seems to blend in with my reddish curls, and my makeup, ripped jeans, and leather boots seem to give me a pop rock look. I put on my glasses so I don't draw too much attention and head downstairs, satisfied with my appearance.

A waft of hot chocolate, eggs, sausages, and pancakes hits my nose as I enter the kitchen. "Hmm," I hum as my feet lead me to the source of the smell. My stepmom laughs at my terrible attempt at being patient as she places a plate full of my cravings in front of me. My mouth instantly waters at the sight, and with a quick murmur of thanks, I start devouring the plate's contents. When I'm done, I thank my mom once again with a big hug and head out.

It's 7:00 am, my half-siblings have already left the house, and I'm still searching my pockets. I have no idea where I left my keys again. I check my watch, and to my horror, it's 7:15 – 15 more minutes, and the school gates will be closed, so I choose to take my bike instead. I'm just about to run inside to get my helmet when I'm hit by a sweet fragrance, like, like, like an hydrangea. I hear an engine start before the third Jeep dashes out of the garage. My knees go weak, and my breathing intensifies as the cool morning breeze sweeps past me, teasing my nose with its new scent. I stand in a frozen state as I gulp in all of its goodness, as though I'm trying to put all of it into memory.