Daisha stretched lazily in bed, savoring the few moments of peace before the household came alive. Her brothers, Noah and Dawens, were already up, likely plotting new ways to tease her. She could hear her aunt Ritchie's voice, calling out instructions for breakfast, as the aroma of coffee mingled with the warmth of the morning light.
Daisha hurriedly pulled on her Sunday dress, her mind already on the impending service. Her younger cousins, Kyky and Ella, giggled as they played with their ribbons. "Laisse-moi tranquille," she muttered, swatting away Noah's playful tug at her sleeve. The clock ticked ominously, a reminder of the time slipping away.
Daisha glanced around, the absence of her mother, Daelle, becoming more pronounced. "Où est ma mère, nous allons être en retard," she called to Noah, who shrugged, his brow furrowed. The laughter of moments ago was replaced by a growing concern, a shadow that darkened the vibrant morning.
Daisha approached her mother's door with trepidation, heart pounding in her chest. Ritchie's voice echoed in her mind, urging her to check on Daelle. "Mom, wake up," she called softly, pushing the door open. The stillness of the room enveloped her, a chilling silence that spoke volumes.
Daisha stood frozen, eyes fixed on the unresponsive form of her mother. "Mom," she whispered again, her voice breaking. Noah, Dawens, and Ritchie rushed in at her call, their expressions mirroring her disbelief. Tears flowed freely, a river of sorrow marking the loss of their anchor.
Daisha sat by the window, gazing out at the world that seemed oblivious to her pain. Her mother's absence was a chasm, turning her life into a relentless misery. "Now my name is misery," she thought, clutching a photograph of Daelle. The memory of her mother's laughter lingered in the air, a haunting melody of a life once full.
