City of the Fallen

| prologue

"Julia!" An urgent voice echoes into the room.

My eyes pop open and I roll over on my bed, still half asleep.

"You slept in again."

I glance over at Brooke, who's wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt tucked into the waistline. She has her hair done, shoes on, and a purse wrapped around her shoulder as if she's ready to go somewhere.

Her crossed arms and arched eyebrow tell me that I've done something wrong.

"What?" I reply groggily through my tangled hair. She only scoffs in response and pulls the covers off of my body, instantly making me chilly and the cold revives my memory of the reason I'm supposed to be awake.

I promised Brooke I would help her at the community center down the street; we volunteered to participate in the food drive for some community service. Basically, we would pack a bunch of donated canned goods into boxes and then deliver them to people in need. It's for a good cause, especially since there's a lot of homeless people in our city.

"Oh right." I murmur, pushing myself off of my bed before I'm even fully awake. "I'll get ready, just wait downstairs."

Brooke does as I say and leaves my room.

I stumble over to my dresser, snatching the first thing I see, and manage to brush my tangled hair in a matter of seconds.

As I get myself ready, I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach, which isn't surprising considering I just totally disregarded plans that Brooke and I made. Either that or I'm starving.

Once I look somewhat presentable, I jog downstairs for breakfast.

My mother is sitting at the kitchen table alongside my brother. When she sees me, her eyes darken. "Did you sleep in again, Julia?"

She can always tell when I sleep in because the dark circles sagging under my eyes are a complete giveaway, along with my panting from rushing down the stairs.

Ignoring her question, I grab an apple off of the assortment of fruit on my counter. I wash it and sink my teeth into it.

I want to avoid talking to my mother about being irresponsible for the hundredth time, and having my mouth full is a good way to prevent that.

"Juliet Miller, how many times do I have to tell you how important it is to wake up on time? What are you going to do in college next year when you won't have someone else to wake you up?" She scolds.

"It's just Brooke, Mom, it's not like I'm going to a job interview." I counter. "Besides, I'm up now."

She raises her thin eyebrows at me, which I know means that she wants me to apologize. It's like looking in a mirror when we speak to each other, yet our minds work so differently.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'll try to be better about waking up, really. I would've woken up if I didn't forget about it." I retort. Usually, I'm too stubborn to apologize, but I'm short on time at the moment.

"Hey, kiddo." My dad walks into the room wearing his suit and holding a black leather briefcase. "Where are you two heading off to?"

He reaches his arms out to hug me, and I wrap my arm around him, giving him his usual side hug before he heads to work.

He gives my brother a tight hug, and Nick pushes him away. Even if my brother despises it, my dad still does it. It's his fatherly instincts to offer hugs. He always says that if he doesn't hug me know, I'm going to regret not hugging him later. I don't know why he has to be so dark sometimes. It's probably his way of guilting us into doing it.