Thanksgiving

FOUR YEARS AFTER

I ran down the stairs, feeling completely exhausted and disheveled, not to add, disorganized and slightly angry. With my robe on, I decided to check if everything was set and ready. I couldn’t help it, it had to be perfect, it all had to be or I might lose it. Anna strolled into the house at that particular moment, and she stared at me with a wary look as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Is everything alright?” she asked in her very sweet voice.

“Go change and rest up,” I reprimanded. She had only just returned from college and shouldn’t be concerned by things like that, yet she was ever so humble and would in fact start on chores the moment she returns from college which was slight annoying. We made her go to college for a good reason, to better her life and not to turn out like a staff her entire life, yet she looked so dedicated to being one.

“I would the moment you tell me what is wrong,” she followed behind me with dedication and became a nag that I didn’t want at