Chapter 34

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The song for this chapter is "La Vie En Rose" by Louis Armstrong. You'll see why.

Cover by inevitxble idk why but j just love the scheme of like the color and the vibe it gives off.

*people whispering* why is KMMY talking about vibes so much.

*other people* idk but it's weird.

*kmmy sneaks up behind them and whispers creepily* you wish you were this weird

*people run* AAAHHHH

*kmmy chases after them while riding a unicorn named skittles* MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

Btw, I want to have a fandom name for my fans! Comment a name and I'll tell you which three I like most in the next chapter!

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The room smelled of antiseptic and disease.

One would think that those two smells would never go together, but after spending nearly a whole day in the hospital waiting room, I would beg to differ.

Often times, people take advantage of what they have. Every day, you will meet someone who just assumes that they are entitled to have an amazing day--an amazing life. That person could probably go on for hours about how much their life has been absolutely horrible, and they wanted nothing more than for life to just 'cut them a break'. It wouldn't matter if that person had experienced happy times too--all they ever cared to speak about was the bad.

My mother never enjoyed speaking with those kinds of people. As crazy as it sounds, she saw trials, pain, and hardships as blessings. She believed that going through hard times meant that you were being given a chance to help those who would go through the same things in the future. You could make your mistakes, feel your pain, and cry your tears, so that someone else somewhere in your future wouldn't have to. They wouldn't have to, because you had already done it for them. You would understand, you would have wisdom, and you would help that person by lessening their pain the way you would have your own.

As much as my young mind thought it was crazy, I believed my mother. I thought that, since she had experienced her fair share of hardships, it obviously meant that she knew what she was talking about. I adopted her philosophy, and always tried to comfort kids around me who cried. Whether it was from a scraped knee to a lost pet--I was there to hold their hand at recess and tell them that things could be worse.

Little did I know that soon, I would be the child that needed comfort. It never would have dawned on me that before I could even turn ten years old, I would say goodbye to the person who told me so many times to always find happiness. I could have never predicted, that the optimistic attitude I had learned from my mother would be lost--along with my hope.

The day had started off so wonderfully. It was a simple Saturday morning that was supposed to consist of a blissful simplicity that was family life. I was supposed to sleep in until eleven, only to be woken up by the smell of bacon and pancakes drifting through the household. After convincing myself that the food was worth it, I would pull myself out of my twin-sized bed with Wonder-Woman sheets on it and race downstairs to the average looking kitchen.

There, Mom would be waiting by the stove with a plate full of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and english muffins in her hands. I would take the plate, kiss her cheek, tell her good morning, and sit down to enjoy my breakfast at the table. Soon after, Dad would come stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and ruffling his extreme bed hair. My mom would laugh at his half-awake form, reaching out and trying pointlessly to fix his disheveled head of hair. My father would smile his famous crooked smile that my mother loved and wrap his arms around her, kissing her softly as he muttered a muffled 'morning'. I would always snicker to myself, remembering when Mom told me how Dad refused to say 'good morning' because he was not a morning person.

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