• I woke up realized were I am, than sighed with discomfort. I dreamt about that same dream ever since that dreadful day, the only time the clouds vanished, and the sun smiled; my mom and I were here in Alaska. She threw snow at me, the sun rays catching every shine in her eyes. But every time her mouth opened to call my name, I awoke; screaming, sometimes crying, and very rarely smiling. It was a sad colorful miserable dream that I could not escape. It gripped my memory as if someone was ringing out a cloth. Then I heard my Grandma’s weary voice echo through the wooden house.
    “Rose wake up you have chores!” she yelled—with her demanding stern voice—from the bottom of the stairs. That was unlike her; she would be polite and nock on the door and possibly wake me up gently. I groaned, hoping she wasn’t in a bad mood.
    I stretched my legs, planting my feet on the cold wooded floor; I sat up slowly, rising my hands to touch my Frankenstein hair.
    I looked around at the room, blinking, trying to absorb it into my memory. It was a big room; the wall is still the same, roses in different colors, trying to add light into the room. Roses were my mother’s favorite flower. She named me Rosalinda; Rose for short. She said when I was born, I was the most beautiful baby she has ever seen, she would always say, “Your beauty is like a Rose, and your strength in like the thorns that protect the stem, but only your thorns have poison which makes you stronger.”
    I liked being compared to a rose; it’s my favorite flower as well.
    I was looking mindlessly through the room, to see if there were any new additions to it. There is a flat screen TV, it is a good size. There was a shelf that had books labeled from A-Z. I like to read; mostly about fairy-tail, magic, and monsters, I never did like reading about happily-ever after stories, because the more I read them the more I wanted it, and I say to myself, ever-after is just a fantasy not reality.