My body moulded into the mattress and refused to move as my alarm blared beside me. Somehow, I garnered enough strength to hit it as hard as I could, silencing it quickly.
I sat up slowly, pulling on my wild hair.
It's been three months already since my breakup with Lucas. I decided to move out of my previous apartment because I had so many memories of him there. It was always painful to come back home and look at the cushion or the bed and remember the memories we made of them.
After Lucas left me the day we argued, he went straight ahead and proposed to his side chick. Turned out, she was actually four months pregnant with his child.
It still baffled me why he would propose to me when he knew that he never did love me.
Men are such deceivers.
Anyway, I did attend his marriage and I made sure I announced to the congregation and his bitch of a wife, that her husband was a cheater and a prevaricator.
I stood up from my bed and walked to the kitchen with the hope of preparing something to eat. I brought out some flour, egg, milk, sugar, and every other ingredient I would need to make pancakes from the kitchen cabinet.
After Lucas told me that the only thing I could cook was burnt bread — which, for your information, was a fatal blow to my feminine pride — I decided to practice making simple dishes every day.
Three months seems like a long time for me to have improved right? Sorry to disappoint you, I'm way worse than that.
Not like it's my fault. I do follow the procedures as it's written in the cooking book I bought at one of the local bookshops but, it seems there's already a meeting by the King in the Food World not to have a peace treaty with me, given the fact that I always mess up.
I hope today turns out well. It's just pancakes anyway; how hard can it be?
~~~~
“Hey, Drew, Mason, the lady is cooking again," Calvin shouted out to his brothers. He stood by the entrance of the kitchen, watching as Amanda made a mess of mixing up the ingredients.
“What!" Drew and Mason chorus in unison as they glide immediately to where Calvin was standing.
‘What do you think she's making this time?“ Calvin asked his two brothers beside him.
"I bet it's another concoction,“ Mason facepalmed.
"I think she's trying to make pancakes," Drew stated as he glided forward to stand directly behind Amanda to get a glimpse of what she was mixing in the bowl.
“Are you serious?“ Calvin laughed “Why would she be using baking soda instead of baking powder to make pancakes?" He asked as he pointed to the bottle on the kitchen counter that had baking soda boldly written on it.
“You've got to be kidding me“ Drew muttered
“She just murdered the act of making pancakes,” Mason whispered in shock.
Amanda was oblivious to the discussion going on behind her back. Drew, Mason, and Calvin were brothers and were stuck between the world of the living and that of the dead due to an experiment that went wrong.
They couldn't remember much of what happened after they woke up from the aftershock of it. All they knew was that their body was nowhere to be found and nobody could see them. They were able to pass through objects and float in the air.
They had become ghosts!
Though their predicament came with gifts that proved beneficial to society, no one could see them. They were bored and their life as ghosts had been terrible for them as they couldn't communicate with anyone.
The apartment that Amanda was living in was occupied by them before the incident. That was the only vital information they could remember — and the fact that they were professional chefs.
Amanda moving into their apartment had been like a breath of fresh air to them. She had brought laughter into their lives, unknowingly to her. Her constant catastrophes in the kitchen have become like a comedy show that they look forward to every day.
The sound of Amanda's phone ringing from the bedroom made them stop their discussion. They watched as she dropped the bowl which contained the poison called batter and ran to the room to answer her call.
“Que suggerez-vous que nous fassions avec cela? (What do you suggest we do with this?)" Calvin asked as he poked around the contents of the bowl.
‘Il n'y a pas de remede a cela– Je ne sais meme pas comment l'appeler (There's no remedy to this– I don't even know what to call it)" Drew stated as he gestured towards the bowl that sat in the kitchen counter.
"The eggs are nowhere to be found in the middle of it all There's too much water — the milk — It's expired! Can you imagine? Expire!" he shouted.
“How can one person be a combination of different climate zones?“ Mason laughed.
"You mean to say a volcano and a tsunami occurring in one place?“ Calvin asked, raising his eyebrows.
The three of them stood before the batter disaster which Amanda had created and watched as it produced bubbles and rose due to the acidic texture of the buttermilk, and then it deflated.
Obviously, she put in more than the recommended amount of baking soda.
“C'est une catastrophe! Why does she even use the book when she doesn't follow the instructions written on it?" Drew asked his brothers.
Calvin shrugged his shoulders. “That's the least of my worries. I'm just enjoying the entertainment," he laughed.
“Evidemment!“ They all chorused as they burst into laughter.
My phone ringing non-stop from the bedroom made me stop my mission of bomb-making.Who knew making pancakes would be so hard? Those chefs on the food network channel make it look so easy. I walked to my room wondering who was calling me. I wasn't expecting any call from the office since it was my day off and so, when I got to the bedroom and found out that it was my assistant at the office — who also happened to be my best friend — calling me, I knew something was up. It's either she wants to torment me with talks about how her mum keeps bugging her to get married at the age of twenty-five or there's something wrong at the office."Hey, Cassie," I said as I answered the call “What's—"“Ama, there's a problem,'' she announced before I could complete my question. “What's wrong?“ I asked, sensing the agitation in her voice. "I know today is your day off but you have to come to see this for yourself."“Can't you tell me what's wrong over the phone? I planned on using today to learn so
"Ama, what the hell are you wearing?!"My best friend Cassie shouted from afar as she hurried towards me. "That's a funny question given the fact that I'm putting on clothes and you don't have an eye problem." “Oh, quite alright, you are putting on clothes, but what do you call the disaster your legs are in?“ She fires back. My legs? I questioned inwardly before glancing down to see what she was referring to. "No fucking way," I whispered-yelled as I noticed the chaos I was wearing; two different shoes. It would have been a bit unnoticeable if I had at least stuck to two colours that didn't contradict each other, but my crazy and disorganized self decided to put on a black and a red shoe. “How could you not have noticed that you were putting on two different shoes?" Cassie shouted."I was in a hurry. How am I supposed to know that I would make such a mistake? You should be grateful that I'm not wearing heels instead.“ “Indeed! Thank you for not letting me get a call that my best
The elevator ascended, the buttons on the dashboard lighting up as it scaled the building. Throughout the ride, I was trying my best not to scream, tapping my feet on the floor out of boredom instead. I was craving coffee more than anything. Well, this was going to be only a quick confrontation and I would have been done with it in no time. I exited the elevator and was greeted by the sight of men and women working and moving around in tight-fitted dresses and neatly pressed shirts with neckties that could choke away a quarter of their life force. I felt like throwing up. What is it with them and dressing like they were going on a runway? The fact that their job was to gather news and write articles concerning the fashion world didn't mean they needed to dress up like a stuffed turkey for Thanksgiving. Anyway, I ignored the stares they were giving me and made my way around the people dressed like the doll in the movie- the boy. My jean and shirt stood out amid these barbies. God
“What have you come up with from your investigation?“ Drew asked Mason as he watched him glide into the living room from the front door. “So far, nothing tangible“ Mason replied, shaking his head with a sad expression. “You?" “Same. No trace of us at all“ Drew was disappointed at the outcome of their investigation. They had been trying to find the reason why they were ghosts, and anything that could give them an insight into who they were before they died There were no clues to finding their bodies or even a tomb with their names on it. It seemed like someone had deliberately wiped any trace of their existence.But, why?“Let's just hope Calvin comes up with something," Mason sighed. "Hopefully . That's if he doesn't get distracted playing tricks on stubborn teenagers." “No, I just made a little diversion on the way," Calvin said from behind them.“Speak of the devil and he appears," Mason scoffed. "I would prefer you say, speak of the angel, and he flaps his wings. Why would y
I groaned as I flopped onto my back. My alarm clock was beeping, trying to get my attention. With much effort, I slung my hand down on top of the button, silencing its battle cry. I had hoped that yesterday was a nightmare that could have been easily forgotten but, to my dismay, it couldn't have been false. After my mini-battle with Gerald, I was so pissed off that I stormed out of the office and went back home. It wasn't until I got a call from Cassie asking for my whereabouts, that I realized I had forgotten to report back to her on how my interrogation with the greedy Monkey went. After explaining everything to Cassie and allowing her to let out her blazing fury towards Gerald on the phone, I had hit the bed intending to take a break from the annoying event of the day. But it seemed that my body needed more rest because my alarm was the only thing alerting me that it was a new day already. Shaking the memory of the previous day's terrors from my head, I stood up from the bed
Drew meandered out of the house through the window onto the busy street of New York. The sounds of cars honking, people shouting attempting to hail a cab and the hurried footsteps of workers on the pavements were not enough to distract him from his thoughts. He was greatly disturbed by how to find an answer to all the questions that were going through his head.Deep down he felt like a failure because he wasn't able to help his brothers in finding the truth about their identities. It has been three years already, and they still have no clue as to who they were or if they even had a family. Would they remain like this forever? "If we are dead for good, isn't there supposed to be a white light for us to go through?“ Drew grumbled. Giving up on the disturbing thoughts, he set out into the streets of New York with no destination in mind. ~~~~~ Amanda's PovI got ready for work and headed out after having a fantastic breakfast. Don't worry, I made sure to check if I was putting on the
"You're right. That is why I called this emergency meeting. Not many people are interested in getting magazines anymore, which is why I need you guys to go and brainstorm on what would be the most suitable team for this year's edition of the Times Magazine.''"Why don't we leave it to Gerald and Amanda to submit a proposal? Whatever comes out best would be used as the theme for the magazine," Rebecca, the head of Publicity suggested."That's a terrible idea,“ I countered."Why?" Leslie questioned. "If you haven't noticed we both have different theories on what is meant to be in a magazine." "This is exactly why both of you are best suited for this project. You guys are filled with lots of ideas,“ Damon chipped in. "True“ Leslie considered. “I need both of you to submit different proposals to me three weeks from now. You don't have to limit yourself to your Department." Now, why do I feel like she is giving Gerald the go-ahead to encroach into my field? The things women do for lov
I looked outside my office through the transparent glass and I could see that the sun was gone. Dark clouds formed, heavy with rain and thunder rumbled at intervals. The air felt cold.I lowered my eyes once more to my laptop and I continued with my work. I was trying to finalize the article which I was writing for the papers tomorrow. The Truth behind Susan Collins's divorce with Evans Lockwood, Revealed. Every paper company in New York knew that securing an interview with Susan was near impossible. I was glad when she called my number requesting to have one for the Times Paper. I guess the rumors concerning her divorce from her ex-husband were beginning to affect her career, and she had to clear the air. There was a knock on my door, so I looked up to see Cassie popping her head inside my office. "Hey, just want to let you know I'm clocking out for the day.“ “Oh, what time is it?“ "It's six o'clock already and I'm pretty sure the weather is not going to be friendly this eveni