Sunlit Life

Chapter 1 - Pilot

(Warning! Family, a little bit of yelling)

"Emily!! Get up! It's time for school!" I woke to someone yelling from across the house. It was my mom, Pamela Johnson. She's 5'5, has long, black hair that she often puts up in a fancy bun, side bangs that shape her face like a Karen cut, piercing black eyes, rectangular glasses, fancy jewelry, and if I'm being honest? She's a bit tiring to deal with. But still, it's just a month before graduation. I can do this.

I dress myself in a white and black striped shirt under a slightly oversized Paramore t-shirt. I grabbed my stuff and left my room. I hopped downstairs with my earbuds in, playing my playlist and jamming to "Young God" by Halsey. I run downstairs and brew myself a cup of black tea before sitting down at the kitchen table and logging onto Discord. I log my switch using PluralKit and I send a nice little 'good morning!' text to my friends. One responds and we start talking.

"Hey, give me that back! Julia!!!" Mom yelled, causing me to flinch. She stopped running and tried to get my attention. "Will you get off your phone and help me?! Your sisters are going crazy!" Mom complained and I paused my music.

"Well- what're they doing?" I asked, panicked.

"They took my hairdryer! If I don't get it back, my hair will be such a mess today!!" She exclaimed, filled with rage.

"Oh," I sighed, "Okay, I'll help you." I thought it may have been a real emergency this time. I guess I was wrong. I walked up to Julia, one of my younger sisters along with Sophia. They were twins. They both liked their hair long with bangs but Julie preferred to have it in twin braids and Sophia down. "May I have the hairdryer, Julia?" I asked calmly with my hand out. Julia sighed and gave it to me. I walked back to Mom and gave it back. "Here you go, Mom."

"Hmfph!" She snatched it out of my hands and strutted away. I went back to my music.

I walk down the hall to my first class. I had already put everything in my locker so I was good to go. First class today was AP Stats with Mrs. Harper. Usually someone else gets triggered out during this class so I'm hoping that'll happen again. No offense to Mrs. Harper, but she's a very boring teacher. Or maybe it's just that I don't like any teacher... Or school for the matter... I walk into her class and take my seat. I'm in the middle row and the leftmost column. It's right in front of Mrs. Harper's desk, which I guess is nice for the person that gets triggered out every time. Speaking of, I think they're in the fronting room already.

"Boo!!" Maxus giggled in the fronting room.

Maxus is a very intelligent, nerdy, and cutesy headmate. He's the reason we're getting any good grades at all. He uses he/they pronouns and has a complex age, so he doesn't identify with any; not even ageless. He has dirty blonde, shaggy hair, blue eyes, round glasses, and freckles. He has a fun personality and enjoys sticking random stickers everywhere, so our notebooks are covered in random stickers and drawings.

"Hey Max! How're you doing?" I responded.

"I'm good, thank you so much for asking, Em!!" He giggled and fixed his glasses.

"So you wanna take over, yeah?"

"Yes, please!"

"Okay, sure. No problem. I'm sick of fronting, anyway."

"Haha!"

"Don't forget to switch in on Discord, though. You forgot the last time."

"Omg you're so right!! I'll do it now!"

With Maxus now in control of the body and fronting, I left the fronting room and front and traveled into the inner-world. In our system, the front is similar to a little vr set in its controls and is located in the fronting room. Our fronting room looks like an old-timey living room with a couch and fluffy rug. It's connected directly to our inner-world via a nice door that makes everything so easy for us here. Our inner-world is like a little cottage with a never-ending hallway in the back lined with doors, all of which are for our bedrooms here. I stand next to the couch in the living room of our cottage, of which we call so lovingly, "La Casa de Sunlit" because we call ourselves "The Sunlit Collective." It's a name we all agreed on so it'd be fair. Though, we have gained some new headmates since the name creation. I'm pretty sure we're all cool with the name. I hope that, if not, someone will speak out...

"Aw, hi, Em!!" Marie Garcia-Brown, of whom we consider the mother of the collective, runs up to me and engulfs me in a huge hug. Marie is a bigger woman and uses she/her pronouns. She loves wearing sundresses and sun hats - of which I commonly relate to a southern 1950s style. She has rosy red cheeks, the sweetest almond hazel eyes you could find, and bouncy curled brown hair.

"Hi, Marie." I say, out of breath. She lets me out of the hug.

"I'm just so happy you're here, Em, I love you so much." She gave me a kiss on the cheek to show her care. Marie is a sweet lady and means well. She knows I've been having a hard time lately and, in response, she tells me a lot of sweet things whenever she sees me. I appreciate it.

"I love you, too, Marie." I smiled back. She gives me another quick hug and goes off to do whatever she usually does. I walked to the kitchen to grab a bag of chips. On my way there, however, I bumped into the one and only Jake.

"Oh shit, hey bro!" He was 5'5, only an inch taller than myself, and had an eyebrow slit. His hair is a chestnut to red-colored spiky quiff. He wore dog tags necklaces and his personal bomber jacket constantly. It was black with red patches all over the shoulders and back of it. I really admired his jacket and would steal it whenever he wasn't wearing it or just wasn't paying attention.

"Hey man, how're you?" We did our signature chest bump. I love Jake, plantically, he's one of my best pals. He uses he/him pronouns, is very extroverted, optimistic, and just an overall fun guy to be around - which is why he's my best friend.

"I'm good, I'm good. You?"

"Ah, you know how it goes. Outer-world sucks ass."

"Haha. Fair, dude, fair."

"So, whatcha been up to lately, dude?" I ask as I put my arm around his shoulders, walk with him to the living room in our cottage, and I sit with him.

The living room is very rustic - it has a stone fireplace, a rectangular wooden table about two feet in front of the fireplace, a tan rug with a wood brown outline, a comfy brown couch (that we were currently sitting on), and two pairing brown chairs on either side of the table. I loved the look of our cottage, it was so visually pleasing and June does such a good job taking care of it. I swear, the Garcia-Brown family keeps our system's inner-world functioning so neatly.

"Awh, dude. I missed you. You've been fronting too much."

"Yeah, I need to take a break. It's so draining."

"I know, dude. It is. You should just stay here and party with me, dawg. Would be so much more fun."

"Haha, yeah, if only." I get up and walk towards the hallway. I spot mine- a little bit of a walk away- with it's dark blue door. I touch the handle, icy cold. Turn and enter.

Ah, silence. Finally. I throw myself onto my bed, my very soft bed, and close my eyes. It's very comfortable.

My room is very simple. It has my bed, my one true love, dressed in dark blue heavenly sheets. My dark oak desk in the corner with the soft chair and nice computer set up. I turn my LED lights to dark blue and try to get some rest. Sure, I just woke up outer-world, but I'm exhausted. Well, emotionally exhausted- we don't really need to sleep in the inner-world. Or eat. We just do for fun and for the taste. But it's not a need. We don't get tired or hungry, not even thirsty. We just stay solid, good, happy- unless you're a depression holder. We have a few of those. It's not my fault! Things just happen and they're just created because of it. It's not my fault they're fucked over, it's the brain's- that's the one who creates them and makes them hold the depression or anger or trauma or whatever else. It's just so I can be stable enough to remain host. ... Great, now I feel guilty.

But it's not my fault. I don't have control over what the brain chooses. Right? I mean, I am host. Am I a self-destructive one? Am I a persecutor? Do I harm us? What if I'm no good?

Well this doesn't help my rest. I toss and turn. I'm supposed to be relaxing. Cmon, mini brain. Let me sleep!