Repeating Mares (IZRA SERIES) BOOK 1

IZRA Being happy

I hummed a light tune as I helped myself to a good amount of chocolate and milk for my tea, aaaah creamy I thought to myself as I licked my lips in anticipation. "And one more thing", I said adding two cubes of sugar. I stirred the mixture together and watched as the creamy foam swivelled at the top of the cup, very nice. I took a deep breath as I got a waft of the scent of my bread which I have so generously coated with sardines marshed with butter and was toasting nicely. I sighed contently, and just then I heard the beep of the toaster signalling it was ready. I skipped happily to the kitchen island which was now turning the lightest shade of yellow from its original white colour due to years of scrubbing and cleaning. I reached for a plate that was on the rack just next to the toaster, took my bread and sat down to enjoy my breakfast.

I was almost through with my food when mum stepped into the kitchen, I greeted her wondering why she was up early as she usually slept late due to taking late shifts at the restaurant in order to raise extra money so I hardly get to see her in the morning. She came over and sat next to me smiling and I smiled back but I couldn't help but notice that her smile wasn't genuine as it didn't reach her eyes or I'll say this looks more like a sad smile.

I took my time to look at this woman who has nursed me for 11 years, my sweet mom. I sat there taking in her features.

Dad's health has really taken a toll on her. She looked stressed and I can't even tell the last time she's had a proper rest, her chestnut brown hair now has a visible amount of white in them. Even her ever shinning emerald eyes which I would say is the only thing I got from her looked dull and I could also make out few wrinkle lines on her face. she reached out for my face and I leaned in and closed my eyes enjoying the feeling of her hands on my cheeks it's not everyday that I receive this amount of love so I might as well enjoy it. My baby she called softly and I smiled, your overgrown baby you mean I teased her.

She c****d an eyebrow at that, then she put her hands on her jaw and acted as if she was thinking. Hmmmn, "well how about after school today you bake me your signature cake"?, she asked. Saying I was shocked was an understatement, I couldn't even get the words out. yo.. yo... you mean apple loaf twist,? I stuttered. Smiling she nodded and I flew out from my seat and lunged myself at her, holding her very tight. Ooh Mom thank you I said as I tried to blink back tears that has gathered and was ready to spill from my eyes. If you are wondering why I was so happy and excited about making this cake well that's because, number one it's my favourite and it's been almost two years since I baked the last one, I called it apple loaf twist because it's major ingredients were apple loaf cake's.

In as much as I hated my growth rate it still has it's specs, because due to my height I was able to start learning how to cook around the age of 6 by the time I was 7 I could make some types of foods without guidance. It only got better with time and on my 8th birthday dad gifted me a cookbook. He was also my greatest sponsor as he loved everything food and so did I, this was one major thing we had in common and boy am I glad about it. He always sponsored my cooking sprees when he saw how good I was at it. We try new foods once or twice a week I do this by trying to improve on recipes of the food or alter them altogether to create new ones.

In order for this to be possible dad gives me money every night he comes home from work and I save them till it's enough to get the ingredients for the next food I'm about to make then I make a list for mum who helps me to go grocery shopping on the selected day of the week. So it wasn't hard for me to take over the kitchen cause I was always there. I came to love cooking and the kitchen, I enjoyed every minute I spent trying new things and I'm always careful not to make a mistake so that the money dad has so generously given me wouldn't be a waste.

By the time I was 9, I could go grocery shopping myself since the mall is about 15 minutes walk from my house. At first, it wasn't easy with the stares that usually came my way but with time I got used to it. "So could you write down the list for me real quick so I can pick up all the things you would be needing before you get back from school so as to save you some time"?, She asked, bringing me back to reality.

Thank you, thank you soo much I sang happily still holding on to her, she smiled and told me to clean up and hurry off so I wouldn't be late. I took the plate and cup to the sink and gave it a quick wash then rushed off to my room and grabbed a book and pen and scribbled down the ingredients checking it over and over again to make sure that everything that was needed was written down then I grabbed my backpack and ran out. I dropped the list with her, gave her a quick peck and ran out of the house while throwing a glance at the wall clock.

It's almost 7:50 , So I have to jog now because any little time wasted would have me being late, and of course I do not want that. I love blending into the background and I can't do that if I should enter a class already full with seated students.

I skipped along the road, my nightmare forgotten and I couldn't help but notice the way the sun shone brightly, even the birds seem to agree with me as they chirped happily on the old oak tree that has stood on that spot for almost 170 years according to what I heard. It's now a land mark. This must be my lucky day.