Novel & Cerita Milhouse

That faithful moment that changed her and her sister’s life forever. Rie dried her face using the towel hanging on her shoulder and then walked out of the bathroom. She weakly sat down on the bed. She no longer knew what was happening. Rie was still drinking tea made of flax seeds every night. Flax seed was one of the major ingredients for a sleeping potion.

The cool sweet water cools my throat, slakes my thirst. Finally, I stand in front of the ...packhouse? ... from which the aroma comes. It's a strange sort of packhouse. The front is glass and I see people gathered at tables inside. Not very secure. A bright pink neon sign above the glass doors says 'Diner'. I push my way in and I see the now-empty pot which still smells of that mouthwatering stew. Behind it stands a Witch. And on a table to the side sits Silvia--with strange metal in her face, her hair shorter, but still Silvia!---whose hands are held in the giant paws of a ginger-haired werewolf who smiles at her and leans forward to whisper .... what? What is he whispering to my Silvia?

She grinned and all the anger in me evaporated. "Why the hell does her smile affects me" I thought frowning. "Good day sir" the ice cream vendor greeted me and I nodded "how much ice cream did she consumed" I asked and his next word shock to me, well not that I'm too shocked because I expected it after she ate five plates of pasta and three cans of Coca-Cola. I paid him and dragged away. MELISSA'S POV

Not having a thing to say, I kept quiet in my seat and ate calmly. "Hmmm." She nodded reluctantly and took a sip of wine. "So Mira..." She started but I was quick to cut in. "Mila!" I supplied, and she looked at me questioningly. "My name Ma. It's Mila." "Hmmm, I see." She noted, before she continued. "So Mira, what social class do you belong?" "What?!" I asked caught off guard. I clearly understood what she had asked but her question was...... so.... materialistic! Plus! the fact she had still called me 'Mira', considering my clarification had gotten me.

I walked downstairs to prepare breakfast for my mistress,miss Tina and apparently the new slave Max I think that's his name I turned off the gas cooker and rushed out everybody share of food "Gud morning Nanny"miss Tina greeted "Morning Miss Tina ...how was your night?"I asked and placed her food for her "It was amazing... breakfast smells amazing!"she grabbed a fork and started eating "Gud morning everyone"Penny muttered and sat down "Morning cousin" "Morning my miss Penny"I said and placed her breakfast on the table "Where's Max?"Miss Tina asked Penny searched the living room with her eyes inorder to see Max.

In that country, there was nothing unusual about it. She stopped in a remote settlement to buy some water and bread. The place was full of shabby huts, but she eventually found a small wooden shack that served as a shop. Dirty goods and a few miserable-looking biscuits lay on the counter. She knocked on the door. A young woman came out, followed by a little girl of about five or six. Magdalena asked for some bread and put a few bottles of water into her bag. As she reached down to pay, she noticed the little girl looking at her with sad, innocent eyes. The child was smiling at her, though Magdalena could not understand what she found so amusing.

"First date? At 5? With Tesco meal deal? Like her mother had Tesco meal deal date at 20 with Leo? And like I had instant noodles date at 26 with Ethan?" "Yes. Quarter cookie led to meal deal. They shared Tesco sandwich, £3.40, ham and cheese, and they both said No to crusts, like Milo says No to everything." Milo, 27, Oxford professor, 6'4, strawberry tie, who said No as first word at 8 months old and now says No as professor, was proud: "My niece says No to crusts, like I say No to champagne, family tradition No."

I gradually stood up as a uniformed maid opened the door, lowering her head in a respectful manner. “Good morning, ma'am. What would you like the kitchen staff to prepare for your breakfast today?” “Allow me to handle the menu,” Mila chimed in, bouncing up from the bed and approaching the maid. “We require bacon and poached eggs, if accessible." She lifted her hand, physically counting out the items on her fingers with growing enthusiasm. “Let's add buttermilk pancakes, fresh fruits, yogurt, and perhaps a meat pie…” Her voice fades down the corridor as she guides the amused maid towards the main kitchen wing.

Mia remained the most open, leaving small offerings near the basement door each evening and chatting happily with the lady she insisted lived there. I learned to time my efforts carefully. Short focused attempts to reach Lily or Mark drained me less if I did not fight the return too hard. One evening I pictured Lily clearly. The pull succeeded for nearly a minute. I saw her in their new kitchen helping Samuel with homework while Daniel reviewed blueprints at the table. She looked healthier, the shadows under her eyes faded. Samuel asked about the old lake house again and Lily paused before answering that it was just an old place with stories. The vision snapped away, slamming me into the nur

The morning sun felt warm on my skin as I stepped outside, and the Harrigan mansion’s driveway looked like it belonged in a magazine. Right there, leaning against her lilac car like she owned the place, was Millie Peterson. You couldn’t miss her—those soft curls bouncing around her face, oversized shades reflecting the gates behind me, and a pastel pink top covered in tiny crescent moons. Her wrists were adorned with gemstone bracelets, jingling with every move she made, and honestly, she sparkled every time she took a step.