I woke up feeling like a horrible person. I hadn't found the time to visit Aunt May, who was Alexa's mother. She had been hospitalized due to an appendix issue. Aunt May had always been there for me, almost like a second mom. I knew I needed to see her.
As I got out of bed, I headed toward the kitchen to make some coffee. It was Sunday, and the streets were already bustling with people—probably churchgoers. I used to be a devout Christian before my mom passed away, but lately, my faith had waned. Still, I admired the unwavering faith and zeal of those around me.
For my outfit of the day, I chose a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt with "peace" boldly written on the back. Irony, right? Because there was no peace in my life at the moment—just pain and trouble. I muttered this to myself as
