MY EYES, MY POOR EYES!

AMARA’S POINT OF VIEW. Grabbing my basket, I tried to conceal my excitement at the thought of finally leaving my father’s mansion for my mother’s house. Other people might call me crazy; hell, those kids at Ravenscroft High would probably think I’m a fool for leaving the life of luxury that comes with being my father’s daughter. But I’d take cramping in my small room back at my mother’s cottage, like a house, any day for the miserable life of sadness and gloom behind these walls. I grabbed the basket of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and ice cream I had made, and placed them in my much bigger basket with a wide smile on my face. It felt like I hadn’t seen my mother in forever. I missed her warm hugs, her soft hands as she tended to the flowers in her garden. I really missed my mom. ‘You have to get her flowers, Amara.’ I said internally as I placed everything properly so it’d look beautiful. I pushed back the tears that threatened to spill, squared my shoulders, and put on a fals