“Aish! What a jerk!” I said in frustration while I am here in my room thinking about what happened earlier.
“Iris!” a knock from my door.
“What is it, grandma?” I asked her when I opened my door.
“I already washed away the coffee stain that you have in your shirt,” she said and she brought out a smile.
“I remember something, it feels like a Deja Vu, doesn’t it?” she said so excitedly that made me confused.
She remembers something so does it feel like my guts are somehow true and may be connected with my past?
It feels weird to remember someone who spilled coffee on my shirt. What does she mean?
“What do you mean, grandma?” I asked her and she went towards my room and organized some stuff on my vanity dresser.
“I know you wouldn’t remember but someone spilled coffee on your uniform
