Chapter 3 :The Days

Serenity Watson

February 2023-03

Today, my father passed away. The truth that I am left alone and that everyone I once loved has passed away cannot be changed. Is this entirely my fault? My father feels that he makes my life tough; therefore, I can't see him giving me any more advice about how to be happy going forward. However, my life is full of sorrow because I love them; if I couldn't love them, they wouldn't pass away. Here I am, now by myself and without anybody by my side, leaning against the window where my father draws his final breath. He wants me to be happy, but how can I be happy when my mother, my love, and I are aware that my father is as well? how?

However, I now feel that I must live a life of sorrow because my mother passed away in a vehicle accident. The entire experience is still fresh in my mind. My mother was the most magnificent and independent lady. I had never encountered her when I was riding in the passenger seat of the car while she was the driver. Dad was arriving from his business conference in New York, so she was driving the car to the airport. I was colouring my school-created family portrait.

"Mama, how's my colouring?" While driving, Momma was thinking about something else when I asked her, so I did it again.

While driving, Momma glared at me via the rear-view mirror and said, "Baby, hold on a second. I will look at how my daughter is an awesome artist."

"Mumma", I said, "See, right now, I want you to see how beautifully I coloured our family drawing," of course, I was puzzled when my mom seemed to be thinking something as she was looking at the image in my hands.

A truck was approaching our road when I looked around to see it in front.

When I yelled, "Mumma!" She was focusing on driving, so she shifted our car's path, and we were spared by a truck, but our car was destroyed by a tree. My mom died there as well. When I yelled for help, there was no one to help me since the road was so dreadful! But then a car came by and a man assisted us, but it was too late, and my mother died there since it was all my fault. I should not have asked her to look at my drawing since I was stuck on it, and I should not have asked my mother to look at my artwork. My dad constantly assured me that it wasn't my fault, yet it was all my fault.

My phone rings, which distracts me from my thoughts and causes me to notice my boss' name. He questioned if I could work or not because I was a chef working part-time at a well-known restaurant. I asked my friend's father, who works there as a manager, to give me a job as a chef. Of course, I take out some loans too, so I have to still work this month so that in a year I can complete the health loan. I have a good job and I'm a software engineer, but my father's hospital bills, it was not affordable.

cia pov-

how can someone's life that can be difficult still how much she is regretting she didn't do anything if I was in her place maybe l also think that but wait a minute it's seriously a fictional series for me because I always like a heartless man and soft girl story it isn't real I should read like a normal book not thinking much neither thinking about more.

Serenity Watson

February 2023-09

I haven't taken any vacations in the last week. I just worked because I didn't want to make my father feel bad for sobbing, so I worked and worked until I couldn't think about anything else. I knew I was not worth happiness, and I did not want to be sorry when I died. At least

Today was the most difficult day of my life. I finished my software assignment, and because there were not enough waiters, I had to work as both a waitress and a cook.

I had gone to take a little rest when the bell rang because another customer had come. When I learned who the customer was, I discovered him to be elderly, maybe in his 50s, blind man. He looked to be a middle-aged man residing alone. He had dark, thick hair. I could not see his eyes since they were hidden by dark spectacles. His aged, tanned complexion must be really attractive for his youthful age; he is dressed in navy blue jeans and a sky blue top. His height and fitness must be average. When I approached him at his table, he sat up straight, as if he were aware of my presence.

"Hey girl, may I know your name? What did you want from me? I mistook you for a waitress." He questioned me cautiously.

"My name is Serenity Watson, and today is my double shift, so I had to work as a cook as well as a waitress," I added, using a neutral tone. However, "Why did you ask this question to me? I wasn't a waitress".

He gently answered my query, "How went your posture? Not like a waiter's? It was as if you were a desk-bound employee, such as a doctor, engineer, receptionist, etc. Additionally, you were ignorant of waiter ethics."

Although I thought it was disrespectful of him, I still said, "Yes, I was not a graduate of hotel management. If you mind me knowing what you want to eat or if I should read you a menu,

"What do you believe is the greatest food to eat here", he murmured.

I spoke slowly and responded, "I thought, how about white cheese pasta?"

"Okay, just take one plate of white cheese pasta and a bottle of red wine," he instructed me with a cold voice.

My thoughts were on the elderly guy as I was cooking: how can someone this cold and harsh still make me feel at home and so comfortable like my father arguing with me? And here I am, finished cooking, and when I start plating, my mind is on why he told me I was a desk person. How can someone be that sure? No one was there; he was all alone. He even asked what's nice here because, no matter how much I know, he knows what to eat. He is too professional, but he still asked me what I loved that should be ordered.

I remained silent as he replied calmly, "My name is James Erix Knights. I told you my name because you told me your name without thinking. Next time, don't tell anyone your name, okay?" I said "okay" dryly. I was standing quietly nearby in case he needed anything. He said, placing the wine glass down, "Go do your work; I don't need anything." I replied dryly. "It is my job to stand here; if you have any problems, please ignore my presence." He sighed and said nothing as if he were done with me.

He ate his meal quietly, and neither he nor I said anything. Even though I didn't like to talk much, Mr Knights complimented my excellent food and offered me an extra charge. Today is another day with no regrets.

Serenity Watson

February 2023-16

Today is one week since Mr James, uncle, began having daily meals here. He instructed me to address him as Uncle, which I agree with without question, but I don't know why. We know days do small chat, but not about me specifically. He was telling me how much he adores his wife. She was an angel in his life, and he intended to die the day his wife died, but she took from him the promise that he had to take care of their child and provide happiness to the entire world. I've realized what a Gentle guy he is in only one week.

My final day of employment is today since I am confident that I can repay my father's health loan.

When the ball rang once more, I realized it was Uncle, so I asked my manager again. He simply nodded when I stood in front of him. I also asked him again what he ate because he always agreed quickly that whatever I said was good here, but today I asked him again, and he replied enthusiastically, "Pizza."

I finished cooking it and placed it on the table. "Serenity, know that I will once more be alone," he remarked. "Because of this, I'm hiring you as a cook to prepare me supper every day." I was standing in my position and kept my mouth shut.

He responded, "I will pay whatever amount you want, please," in a trustworthy tone.

"You know I'm not a chef, and second, don't act like you're too wealthy; I'll pay anything you want," I said quietly. I was imitating him as he asked me again, "So, how about you take care of me?", "I'll pay, thanks. You simply reside with me. I had the impression that I was not alone." He was begging me with dark eyes, imploring like a little child.

"I don't want your money, and if you want to join me for supper every day at my place, feel free to do so." I started it gently, and he remained silent.

However, I want to inquire today about his son. Where is the asshole hiding? "Where is your son, uncle?" I was hesitant at first because I didn't want to invade people's privacy, but after if my father gave me his eyes and tried to provide me with all the happiness ,I would want to have always with him, he confessed, "He is now not the same as before. He was never blind, but he was the most amazing son who loved to talk. He was my sweetheart, not only mine ever; he talks everyone loves him without denying him because he was just too attractive like his mother." "But after his 18th birthday, life changed like a movie scene where I wanted to celebrate my son's birthday. I was very happy. My son was the most priceless thing I had, but one accident changed our both lives, and my one decision makes a complete life soulless." He finished and stopped. I decided I shouldn't continue because I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

I shouldn't paint him as an asshole without first knowing the story; he must be in a hospital bed, which is why his condition will be much worse. I changed the topic to, you know, "I am also the same age, and I think I am more attractive than your son." I said it in a teasing tone, and he smiled at me like he understood that I knew he didn't want to talk about his son. He whispered, "You know, even though I can't see you with my eyes, you are more than you realize and more divine than you can imagine Serenity." I answered, "How sweet of you," and he continued to eat his supper quietly.

He finished his supper and said excitedly, "Serenity, thank you for such a tasty dinner from the past week, but I am inviting you for dinner. Will you come for dinner? Just think: tell me this is my phone number. If you are taking my invitation, please send it to me." I was silent for a moment.

Isn't he a professional person who trusts no one? Then why is he inviting me? My thoughts were interrupted again by Mr Erix's explanation: "I know you from the past week; if you think I am an experienced man, then I can tell you about your personality in one meeting, and I think you can trust me because I am giving my words. Do you want to know one secret?"

I asked awkwardly, "Yes, tell me."

He replied, "I have my principal. And for me, I can die for my words, so you can trust me."

I told him honestly, "I will think."

And the day ended with a beautiful sleep.