"Dear Valencia, who is he?" chapter one.

‘Yasmeen, wake up. We need some groceries from the super market’ said mama, slowly shaking my back.

‘Mama, b3den b3den"I said, yawning.

"Haw, lesh?".

"Banam" I said, weakly.

"Gumay la sij, I’ll call your father and complain" she shouted, and left the room.

Yeah, how annoying, I know! My mom is half Kuwaiti and half British. So, doubtlessly she has some difficulty talking Kuwaiti. But its improving day after day. Dad on the other hand is fully Kuwaiti, yet you’re gonna see that I live in Valencia, Spain. I’ve been here for only two weeks but My parents were here 1 year ago; surely they know the places, locations and Spanish. My dads works for Kuwait’s embassy in Barcelona. So me and myself living alone in a huge apartment, shuddery!

Anyways, I hopped up out the bed and went straight to the bathroom. Just by passing the front mirror which is placed next to the bathroom door, I looked at myself. Smiled at myself and thanked god of my pretty figures.

I had this wide eyes, long lashed blue-iced eyes; just like my mothers. Pink full, thin lips. Circled face, and sun kissed skin. Slim and a Medium-height body.

So, I’m a typical person who goes in the bathroom. You know exactly what I mean, right? I brushed my teeth, wore my retainer and slightly pulled my hair into a puffy ponytail.

As I finished, I went to my closet. “mm, what to wear?” I thought to myself. As if I’m going out to a special place, Its just a super market. I quickly picked an A&F polo shirt, paired it with dark grey training pants. Yeah, I’m not that stylish. aren’t I?

"Mama, what do you need precisely?".

"Oh, here you go" she handed me a small note book. Probably, needed groceries are written in it.

"Olla, a whole notebook leash?" I said, shocked.

"Stop asking. And I prefer Mercadona than any other supermarket".

“Ok” I huffed.

So, I did as I told. All the way people stop driving and stare, I wish I could bump into them as a punishment. I hate it when people do that, as if I care. But its annoying y3ni. A bad habit, Guessed I left it back in Kuwait.

“Mabghayt osal” I complained, deeply. I stepped out of the car, with my LV bag held with the right hand and the note book with the other.

It was empty, I like it this way. You see, I’m not a fan of crowded places. Less about me, and let me focus on buying the groceries.

-Slice cheese
-dr. peppers
-Black pepper
-eggs

A whole notebook for these? Really… Never mind.

“Oh, sh3rfni slice cheese bil Spanish” I asked myself, slowly searching my phone in my bag. “Oh shit. I forgot it, stupid” I said, slightly slapping my forehead.

“Parece que te estás perdido. Puedo ayudarle?” Asked an attractive guy. Mm, shakla mo ghareb. Yasmeen, you’re in Spain not the avenues.

“Habla Inglés (English)?” I asked the only sentence/question I know in Spanish. Wow, It really helped.

“Yeah” Mamma Mia, he talks English, too.

“Uh, wen alga slice cheese” I asked, quickly.

What was I thinking? probably being in Sultan Centre.

“Uh, sorry” I apologized.

“Ma 3leh” he smiled, manly.

to be continued...
should I stop or continue? and what do you think?