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Why was I crying? Who’s voice do I hear talking to me? What was the photo of? Was this dream to mean something or was it just my sleeping conscience playing games with me? I guess everything would have to just remain unanswered until one day when it suddenly hits me in the face. If it actually does. Its been almost a year since my family has moved into our house and you would have probably thought that we would end up having that magical fairy tale ending where we all live happily ever after. Now don’t get me wrong, the smiles have returned along with the random game nights and we’re all closer then ever since our nightmarish past that we had to endure together. Excluding Julie and I who remain apart, seemingly drifting further and further as time goes by. Lost in all the surrounding happiness is myself. I’ve been working around the clock distancing myself from the world around me. The advice my mother gave me seems to have come back to bite me in the ass. I’ve have yet tried to make. The smooth cobbled stones of the streets glistened from the rain and the sky continued laden with angry looking clouds. The air, however, felt clean and crisp. The rain had made a truce and Clara took less than 30 minutes to arrive at the pension. The young Alesa was right; it was indeed out of the way.“It’s now or never,” she told herself, pushing open the ornate door and entering the reception area.She surveyed her immediate surroundings, making a quick reconnaissance. There was the leather couch, the French chair, the painting behind the counter of a weird looking dude on horseback, the round stairway, the rug with diamond shapes, and the peculiarly rare desk bell. Everything was just like Rebeca had described it. There was nobody at the counter, as expected. Before she rang the bell, Clara stuck her head into the adjacent room where breakfast was still being served. Two girls were sitting at separate tables drinking coffee in a setting furbished for nobility. Even the porcelain.
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