40 Days

Chapter One

It's been a pretty exciting week for my brother, Caleb. He recently graduated from high school and found out that he got accepted into Fordham University which is in The Bronx. I was surprised to find out that he got accepted. One, there's only a 53% acceptance rate, and the fact that he can barely open a plastic water bottle. His major is accounting. Pretty lame. I can't imagine sitting in a cubicle all day, staring at a old computer screen.

Me on the other hand, I want to major in photography. I've always had a passion for it. Every single year for either my birthday or Christmas, I begged my dad to buy me a camera. A real one, not a stupid Disney princess toy. To no surprise, I never got one. He claimed that he couldn't afford it. But he could afford to go on vacation every month without me. Yeah, okay dad.

I quickly realized that my dad wasn't going to help with this. And I didn't even bother asking my mom. She sides with dad on everything, even when it's very clear that he's in the wrong. So, I worked my ass off working as a dog walker, and earned enough cash and bought myself a Canon EOS R3. Though it took me 3 years to earn enough money, it was so worth it. Caleb dropped it once, and I nearly strangled him. Luckily, it didn't break.

I still have two more years until I graduate. I'm sixteen, and coming to the end of sophomore year. This year definitely hasn't been the best, but not the worst either.

I wonder what junior year will look like.

_________

I woke up this morning with a sharp pain in my neck. I slept in a weird position, again. I had a habit of doing this. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. I winced as I rubbed it, trying to smooth it. With my luck, it didn't work. In fact, the pain increased. I roll my eyes.

I must be the most unlucky person in the world.

I try to take my mind off the pain by grabbing my phone and scrolling through social media. I first pull up some news report of a recent sickness spreading North through the east coast. Along with a couple mutilated bodies being found. I click off from it, mainly because the news is always full of crap. So, I switch to Instagram. On pretty much all my accounts, I post photography. I meant it when I said it was my passion. And not to toot my own horn, I think I do a pretty good job at capturing them. I could help but smile, as I went through my recent captures. My most recent was of the skyline of New York. There was a pink, orange and purple sunset in the background, and I thought it made a nice touch. I noticed that I had unread comments, so I open it, and I frowned as I looked at the first comment.

These suck. My brother could do better than this and he's three.

Immediately, I knew who wrote these. Some girl from my school named Lana. First off, Lana and I don't even follow each other, so she willingly had to go through the trouble to look up my account and comment this. The fact that she's this desperate to start shit, is pretty sad on its own. I chuckle, as I wrote a response.

Great statement Lana, but I don't remember asking?

It's honestly hilarious to see how desperate she is. She's been like this for as long as I can remember. It's actually pretty entertaining. Just then, Caleb bursts into my room, and I jump.

"Jeez, Caleb. Don't you knock?" I said, my hand over my heart.

"Dad says to hurry up and get ready," Caleb said, then walking out the door. Leaving it open.

I groan loudly in annoyance. He always does that, and it gets on my nerves. I contemplate getting up, since I could lay back down for ten minutes. But then I couldn't have time to stop at my favorite deli. Nonetheless, I get up anyways and go to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and groan. Running my hand through my curls, I gag. I hadn't brushed it in days, or washed it. Gross, I know. I just haven't had motivation.