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156

MELLISSA.

I must have drifted asleep while lost in thought, with both baby Hendrix’s dress and my mama's wrapper in my hands. Not like I expected better while I slept, but it isn't bad either to hope for a miracle. Like my mama at the corner of the house, cooking and cheerful, or merrily cutting her veggies as she sings like a morning bird.

Not being fortunate with a miracle, I wake up lonely and even worse than I slept, I woke up more confused than I was before I took a nap. It's been approximately two weeks and extra days, since she went missing, with no clue of her whereabouts.

What is she like at the moment, what is she surviving on? Is the food and water healthy, and is it sufficient for her? Worse still, is she still alive? I fight back tears.

The rumblings from my stomach, make me clutch my arms around my abdomen, guarding it roughly. It's been quite a while since I had something to eat, not entirely because I’m grieving, but partly because I have only a few supplies left.
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