I am staring at the freshly painted ceiling of my new room. After the day my mom showed up, we transferred to a new house that she bought from her own earnings for the past years she left me.
It is not very big but it is more than enough to provide a comfortable space for the three of us. It is a two-story house that has three bedrooms. From my seventeen years of existence, I can say that this is the first decent house I've been to. From the day I was born up to a week before my mom appeared-- all my life, I have never experience leaving in a house. We always rent a small apartment, even when my mom and dad were still together.
I am not sure of what to feel. Should I be happy that my mom came back? Even after all these years of abandonment?
It's been a week. I haven't tell anyone abou
