Post by Ariessya on Jul 4, 2009 16:21:03 GMT -5
Prologue
It was all a flash before my eyes, and before I knew it, all I saw was Death, standing before me.
I'll never forgive myself for what had happened. No matter what happens, it will forever be my fault.
Chapter One
I got out of bed, after the call of my alarm. Its steady BEEP BEEP BEEP annoyed every member of my family, but I wouldn't change it. It was the only sound that got me out of bed.
I slipped on some pants; Cara or Mel would giggle like mad if I walked downstairs in boxers, and they wouldn't like it if I slapped them.
One of my sisters, probably Kelly, poked my side as I reached up to get the cereal. It pissed me off when she did that, just to see if I was ticklish; even though I told her every day that I wasn't. Like that would change overnight.
I sighed and continued to pour my Rice Krispies. Nothing would stop me from my daily routine. Not even my six younger sisters. Yes. Six.
"Daaaron," Kelly sang, "good morning!"
"That's an oxymoron," I grumbled, not caring if she understood the word or not. She was only eight.
I put my bowl in the sink and trudged up the stairs once again. After slipping into some shorts and a tee, I ran my fingers through my black hair. It wasn't too messy.
My name was Daron Thatch. I was seventeen, living in a screwed up home of nine people. It was utterly chaotic, and I'd run away before. I am the only guy, unless you count the one called my father who is never home because he's out working or drinking. I only see him once a week. My mother should kick him out, but she's no better, with her heroine addiction. Being the oldest, I'm the one left to look after the younger ones, but that's hard to do when I have a night job.
I was almost finished eleventh grade, thank God. School was tedious as hell, and I didn't want to be there at all. I didn't have any friends; I chased them all away with my cuddly personality. I hope you understood the sarcasm there.
This particular morning, I was fed up. Absolutely frustrated with the way my house was running. I was so close, just so close, to calling Children's Aid Society.
I walked out the door with my bag over one shoulder, slamming the door behind me. My mother would be sleeping, although I couldn't care less if she was in a coma.
I got to school just in time for first period, as per usual. I sat at the edge of the table I shared with another girl, Carmen. She was always trying to talk to me, and I could handle it on any other day, but not today. Today was my snapping point.
"Morning Daron," she said. "You're a minute early today."
I nodded, trying to ignore her.
"What's the matter? You're a little more angry than usual."
I glared at her. "It's really none of your business, Carmen." I stared at the chalkboard.
"Oh, stop being so touchy," she hissed. "I try to talk to you every day, and yet, look at what I get."
"Then maybe you should stop trying," I growled.
She stared at me, then paid attention to the teacher. Finally.
Now I could focus on my own problems.
When the bell rang for biology to end, I scooped up my books and briskly got to the door. I didn't stop at my locker, and made it to English in under two minutes. Just like every other miserable day of the school year.
Carmen was in this class, too, sitting in the desk next to me. I had no idea why she chose the spot besde me of all people. I mean, I'd ignored and snapped at her each day, and yet she still didn't move. Stupid, stubborn girl.
She didn't say anything to me the whole period, and for some readon, that didn't give me the satisfaction I thought it would. Maybe the kindness she tried to show me somehow touched my cold heart. (Yeah, right. Like I could feel any emotion for anything at all.)
The rest of the day flew by at a pain-inducing rate. I got home quickly, like always, but I hated going home. I hated everything about my life, but it would be irresponsible to kill myself. Therefore, I had to restrain myself from blowing my brains out and onto the wall.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, looking over at the table to see if the girls were doing their homework.
"Michelle and Kate," I called, "why aren't you down here?"
"We don't have any homework," came Kate's reply.
"If I phoned the school, would I get a different answer?"
The two of them were in the same homeroom class as I was when I was their age. And in grade seven, I got homework almost every night. They couldn't fool me.
Neither of them answered me.
"Come down here and start on that novel study. I want you both done the next chapter and doing Reflection questions before I go to work."
"Daron I got a call from the school today," came my mother's voice as she clambered down the stairs in front of my sisters. "You skipped third, didn't you?"
"Third period is my lunch, pothead," I spat. "Stop trying to be authorotative, Megan, and work on that addiction of yours." I refused to acknowledge her as Mom or Mother. Megan was nothing to me but another idiot in the house.
"Don't you talk back to me," she chided.
"I'll talk back to whoever the hell I want. You don't know anything about parenting, because if you did, maybe you wouldn't have seven kids who hardly eat anything because you spend so much money on heroine and the occasion joint, and because Owen spends all his work money on drinks. So shut up and go do something else. Like call Dr. Phil."
This conversation was regular. We had it a lot.
Megan turned away and went back upstairs.
But, seeing as today I was about to burst, I stomped to the bottom of the stairs. "I am the only one holding up this family; you are lucky that I earn enough to keep this stuff from Repo!" I yelled.
I marched out the door, again slamming it behind me. I had to pause and unclench my fists. I wasn't usually an angry person, just grumpy and quiet. But I seriously couldn't take it anymore.
What am I going to do? What is going to happen to my life? My parents are destroying my future!
End of Chapter One
It was all a flash before my eyes, and before I knew it, all I saw was Death, standing before me.
I'll never forgive myself for what had happened. No matter what happens, it will forever be my fault.
Chapter One
I got out of bed, after the call of my alarm. Its steady BEEP BEEP BEEP annoyed every member of my family, but I wouldn't change it. It was the only sound that got me out of bed.
I slipped on some pants; Cara or Mel would giggle like mad if I walked downstairs in boxers, and they wouldn't like it if I slapped them.
One of my sisters, probably Kelly, poked my side as I reached up to get the cereal. It pissed me off when she did that, just to see if I was ticklish; even though I told her every day that I wasn't. Like that would change overnight.
I sighed and continued to pour my Rice Krispies. Nothing would stop me from my daily routine. Not even my six younger sisters. Yes. Six.
"Daaaron," Kelly sang, "good morning!"
"That's an oxymoron," I grumbled, not caring if she understood the word or not. She was only eight.
I put my bowl in the sink and trudged up the stairs once again. After slipping into some shorts and a tee, I ran my fingers through my black hair. It wasn't too messy.
My name was Daron Thatch. I was seventeen, living in a screwed up home of nine people. It was utterly chaotic, and I'd run away before. I am the only guy, unless you count the one called my father who is never home because he's out working or drinking. I only see him once a week. My mother should kick him out, but she's no better, with her heroine addiction. Being the oldest, I'm the one left to look after the younger ones, but that's hard to do when I have a night job.
I was almost finished eleventh grade, thank God. School was tedious as hell, and I didn't want to be there at all. I didn't have any friends; I chased them all away with my cuddly personality. I hope you understood the sarcasm there.
This particular morning, I was fed up. Absolutely frustrated with the way my house was running. I was so close, just so close, to calling Children's Aid Society.
I walked out the door with my bag over one shoulder, slamming the door behind me. My mother would be sleeping, although I couldn't care less if she was in a coma.
I got to school just in time for first period, as per usual. I sat at the edge of the table I shared with another girl, Carmen. She was always trying to talk to me, and I could handle it on any other day, but not today. Today was my snapping point.
"Morning Daron," she said. "You're a minute early today."
I nodded, trying to ignore her.
"What's the matter? You're a little more angry than usual."
I glared at her. "It's really none of your business, Carmen." I stared at the chalkboard.
"Oh, stop being so touchy," she hissed. "I try to talk to you every day, and yet, look at what I get."
"Then maybe you should stop trying," I growled.
She stared at me, then paid attention to the teacher. Finally.
Now I could focus on my own problems.
When the bell rang for biology to end, I scooped up my books and briskly got to the door. I didn't stop at my locker, and made it to English in under two minutes. Just like every other miserable day of the school year.
Carmen was in this class, too, sitting in the desk next to me. I had no idea why she chose the spot besde me of all people. I mean, I'd ignored and snapped at her each day, and yet she still didn't move. Stupid, stubborn girl.
She didn't say anything to me the whole period, and for some readon, that didn't give me the satisfaction I thought it would. Maybe the kindness she tried to show me somehow touched my cold heart. (Yeah, right. Like I could feel any emotion for anything at all.)
The rest of the day flew by at a pain-inducing rate. I got home quickly, like always, but I hated going home. I hated everything about my life, but it would be irresponsible to kill myself. Therefore, I had to restrain myself from blowing my brains out and onto the wall.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, looking over at the table to see if the girls were doing their homework.
"Michelle and Kate," I called, "why aren't you down here?"
"We don't have any homework," came Kate's reply.
"If I phoned the school, would I get a different answer?"
The two of them were in the same homeroom class as I was when I was their age. And in grade seven, I got homework almost every night. They couldn't fool me.
Neither of them answered me.
"Come down here and start on that novel study. I want you both done the next chapter and doing Reflection questions before I go to work."
"Daron I got a call from the school today," came my mother's voice as she clambered down the stairs in front of my sisters. "You skipped third, didn't you?"
"Third period is my lunch, pothead," I spat. "Stop trying to be authorotative, Megan, and work on that addiction of yours." I refused to acknowledge her as Mom or Mother. Megan was nothing to me but another idiot in the house.
"Don't you talk back to me," she chided.
"I'll talk back to whoever the hell I want. You don't know anything about parenting, because if you did, maybe you wouldn't have seven kids who hardly eat anything because you spend so much money on heroine and the occasion joint, and because Owen spends all his work money on drinks. So shut up and go do something else. Like call Dr. Phil."
This conversation was regular. We had it a lot.
Megan turned away and went back upstairs.
But, seeing as today I was about to burst, I stomped to the bottom of the stairs. "I am the only one holding up this family; you are lucky that I earn enough to keep this stuff from Repo!" I yelled.
I marched out the door, again slamming it behind me. I had to pause and unclench my fists. I wasn't usually an angry person, just grumpy and quiet. But I seriously couldn't take it anymore.
What am I going to do? What is going to happen to my life? My parents are destroying my future!
End of Chapter One
