<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><span style="font-weight: bold"> LA California</span></span><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Typical wealthy people living in Los Angeles California for the glamour, the busy, and critical embodiment of art, history, and a large industry is best defined in America. Many people own homes elsewhere in LA, even as close as Santa Monica or Pacific Palisades. Most of the flourished owe a house in Malibu for the weekends and summers. Since it's too far/slow/stressful to drive into work every day, or busily taking the children off to private school. However people deemed to live in their glamourize lifestyles. Many who live year round are either retired, actors/actresses, or the less wealthy who live away from the beach. The weather is often warmer during the summer than the other beach cities by a few degrees, sometimes even 10+ degrees; which was colder enough to stay out of the waters. Even though it's July currently. Most of the neighbors were resigning within their summer homes. The one who stayed behind alone was an eighth teen years old young woman name Emilia. She owned enough to be living among her other neighbors in Malibu. Given the uncontrollable circumstances that proceeded two years ago she felt an endurance to stay where she is. Not because of the fact she was ill or she couldn't move, on the contrary, she is very active and healthy for her age. No, she felt a heaviness within her soul that has been damaged and carries this sorrowfulness that taunts her daily. Emilia often found herself alone. For living inside in the fast pace of Los Angeles what can be more magical?</span></div><br/>Dressed in cozy knitted large sweater and black tight yoga pants Emilia’s footprints could be seen on the porch of the backyard of her beach house that imprinted on the sand. Bare feet could be found. Her black leggings gave away a strong hint that she kneeled on the sand and she worn tiresome eyes. Anyone who saw and watched her from afar must of realized she been outside for hours now. A gust of salty breeze traveled through, kicking up a mixture of sand and water from the sea, which caused her long braid to blew over her shoulder. However, her focus was on the ground, with the sun setting there's limited of light, using the stick to draw. It was months ago when she saw an Australian artist used overturn sand and created art through pictures on the ground. She been obsessed with it ever since and have been trying to accomplish the same goal the artist had. There's little to no improvement since she started this new hobby.<br/><br/>The only thing that seemed to break her focus was a speeding boat passing by from afar the bluish ocean. She lifted her head up to glance over at the water the waves echoed calmly. Living by the beach this was like a lullaby, to her, it was smoothing and calming. Honestly, it did put Emilia to sleep whenever she laid on her bed or on the couch. It felt relaxing to burrow her ears to the environment. As she stared at the speed boat passing by she observed another one boat that parked in middle of the ocean. Floating over the choppy waters. This made her ponder what a few speed boats were doing, but assumed that the ocean was open to the public and boating was legal. She shrugged it off. Letting her curious thoughts fade back in the back of her mind. A small hot cloud escaped her lips as she sighed and she returned back to her task; which wasn't productive.<br/><br/>During this time of the hour, she didn't have neighbors who were friendly enough to greet her nor did she personally know her neighbors by name. Instead the surroundings was eerily quiet. Perhaps an occasional tourist or sport goer would be in the waters or at least at the beach. The only thing to keep her company was her thoughts and the ocean. She wondered if her clients and people she worked with counted. That didn't matter now. A glim of lights turned on, automatically, inside her house as the technology picked up the weather change and the darkness outside. Emilia saw this, giving her lame master work on the sand some light, and considered venturing inside her home and crawling under the blankets. She hasn't had dinner yet, but she was starting to think of skipping a meal. It was Saturday after all and she was bored enough to finish tomorrow’s work. She was ahead of her task and wasn't looking forward to tomorrow’s uneventful Sunday. "Not like anything exciting is going to happen tonight either." She mumbled to herself since no one else could hear her.