Mr bossy

Latifa’s pov

I have not been able to work or even think properly as it all goes down to my bed every night or hours. crying myself to sleep has become the deal of each day, and I wouldn't know why it happens. I’m just too broken, cashless, depressed, and not able to feed well.

talking about food my stomach growled as I held it tightly, with my heart racing so hard

What's taking Wendy so long to be here, I’m so famish!

I walked to the kitchen and began to eye-clean the untidiness of the areas, a bunch of dirty plates in the sink, broken glasses lying over the flour, and spilled mixed species

“Where should I start from? gosh” kicking the bowl that obstructed my view

“_I hate this life. I'm sick of everything... Can't there be just food?”

I dangled out of the kitchen to place calls across Wendy, just about to do so. I heard someone walk and stop right in front of my door with a reflecting shadow.

A simple knock was introduced on the door. My heart skipped, with my breath caught in m