A Different Kind Of Crazy

Chapter23||Hazel Eyes

A/N: Brace yourselves guys this one will have a lot revealed.

"If life were predictable it would cease to be life, and be without flavor. "

-Eleanor Roosevelt

~~~

Across the street stood several buildings of different heights. The buildings were close in proximity to each other and were placed in a semi-circular manner, almost like a cul de sac.

Anxious to get something to eat I cross the street. I haven't eaten breakfast due to a certain someone locking me up in my room.

He must be on some Cinderella shit.

Not long after I am in front of a supermarket which I hurriedly enter. It was not as full as one would usually deem typical of a supermarket.

There was a scanty amount of people, like a handful maybe. Considering this place is close to where I just came from, it's no wonder.

I pay for the small number of groceries and bag them. Luckily, I still had a little cash left over.

As I head out of the small store, my body collides with something hard. And all of the contents from the bag spew out on the floor.

"I'm so sorry. " A deep, husky voice frantically spoke. He immediately stooped, picking up all the groceries.

Rubbing my forehead which was now in pain I watched the stranger as he stood up to hand me the bag. I briefly took in his appearance.

He was tall and dark, with a strong jawline and a shade of brown in his eyes, making it quite hard to decipher the color. He was sporting a plain white T with some blue jeans and some black sneakers.

"Thanks." I took the bag from him, making a quick check to see if I had everything in there. Oddly enough, I couldn't mistake seeing flowers on top of the groceries in the bag.

"Sir, i-" I looked up and he was no longer in front of me. I searched all around me and he was still nowhere in sight.

I try to brush off the weird encounter and take a seat on a nearby bench. I open the bag and take out the flower, I was about to toss it out when I notice that it was a sunflower.

Out of all the flowers, why a sunflower? I toss it to the side and rummage through the bag and take out some snacks I bought.

I remembered my grandma called me her sunflower. Maybe, the sunflower in the bag is just a sick coincidence. I whip out my phone and search for the cheapest flight from here to Russia.

Looking at all the options, I frown. I don't think I have enough cash. As I sip on the bottle of water from the bag, I think about just where could I get so much money.

I could borrow it from my mother. But then again I would have to sneak in and take it from her purse. Sounds like a plan.

I get up from the bench and brush myself off. I grab the grocery bag and head off to the pavement where I fan down a taxi and get in.

After a while, I arrive in front of my yard, I take a deep breath as I close the taxi door and it drives off.

I carefully take steps toward the porch and out of nowhere I hear a bark and scratches on the door coming from the inside.

Patch.

I cautiously make my way to the porch, cringing as the old wooden floors cry out after each step. I peer inside and I don't see anyone so I open the door. I'm greeted by an excited and cheerful patch that jumps up all over me.