Cara�s home

Phill ahs another dream ,this time about Cara�s childhood.

The flight wasn’t as bad as he thought .After a few hours in the plane, Phill found himself drifting away in his imaginary world, were he had a cool normal life, and could feel normal again.

 

Phill has no choice but to sleep… hopefully the woman was on torturing someone else this time.

 

Making an effort Phill, washes himself quickly and makes it to his bead. Te hotel was better than he expected, after paying such an insignificant sum for his room.

He savored the sweet smell of roses of his pillow, a few seconds before dozing of.

 

Tranquility was not very frequent in Phill’s live. Having to work in one of the most prestigious exchange firms in New York, BB&P, as a computer programmer, and dreaming about getting killed weren’t the most stress-relieving activities. Phill had tiresome written on his face, and neglect crying out from his unstylish clothing match and hairstyle.

 

Unsure were he was, or if Cara was going to come from him again, Phill is walking along the sidewalk of a black and white residential district. The weather indicated that it was summer.

 

Phill walks into one of the yards not knowing exactly why. The widows of the house were covered with pink curtains, and the way to the door was surrounded by read and mauve pansies, the owner was probably a woman.

 

Instead of knocking on the door Phill, walks around the house and stops in front of one of the windows. The curtains were not pulled at this one, Phill could gaze inside the girlishly decorated room – it was empty….

 

Just before Phill was going to leave, he hears the door open.

 

- Claire sweetie, it’s time for us to go to the hair-dresser!

 

A tall blonde, slender woman, talked to the bead, from where a young girl raises, who was obviously the daughter of the woman – judging by her physical structure.

 

The child’s expression and clothing reveled the fact that she was spoiled, lazy and the kind of fake that only bad girls could do.

 

Claire, raised herself slowly of the bed, and after giving reapplying her make-up, she follows her mother, out of the room. Phill walks trough the wall, into the girlish messy room and follows Claire.

 

The rest of the house was decorated with floral paintings and diverse plants, whoever this woman was; she must have been rich to afford decorating such a large house in the way she wanted. Claire was obviously very important in the life of this woman, not only that she was spoiled but everything about her indicated that she was born and raised by this woman, her looks making Phill think that she was a miniature of her mother.

 

- Cara… I’m taking little Clairie to the hair dresser, don’t forget to wash the dishes.

 

Phill freezes – this was Cara’s home. The woman’s tone was cold and unfitting for a mother.

 

- Yes, Matricia – have a good time.

 

He can see the reflection of the submitted little girl in one of the mirrors in the spacious hall- she was small and thin, with long black thick hair. Her clothes were not half as nice as Claire’s, and did not fit the surroundings at all.

 

When turning her head, Phill sees her eyes that were the same ones who looked at him so many times, only that this time they did not express, madness or absolute tranquility.