I blinked against the morning sun streaming through my bedroom window, reluctantly greeting the day. Despite my English teacher's insistence on dramatic openings, my attempts often fell flat. But let's dive in anyway. I'm Mary Johnson, a sixteen-year-old whose love for basketball borders on obsession—I'm the captain of the girls' team. With two older twin sisters, Makayla and Mayella, with whom it's hard not to feel overshadowed.
While they're the epitome of beauty, with long blonde hair and captivating blue eyes, I'm stuck with ginger hair and unremarkable brown eyes. I can't help but envy them, feeling like Anne of Green Gables next to Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty—no offense to Anne.
While they excel in ballet, I find solace in painting, drawing, or simply bouncing a basketball in the backyard.
Today, however, my peaceful morning is shattered by an insistent knock on my door.
"MARY! OPEN THE DOOR!"
It's probably May, easily riled up, especially if someone's dared to touch her property, which I may or may not have done.
"MARY! I'M GONNA BE LATE!"
My mom's warning from downstairs barely registers in the chaos. With a resigned sigh, I drag myself out of bed.
"MAYELLA! KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!"
My mom's voice echoes through the house, a futile attempt to restore order.
As I make my way to the door, the banging intensifies.
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
May's threat reverberates through the wood. "Hold on, I'm coming," I call out, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. Turning the handle, I prepare to face the storm.
"Oh, hello, dear sister," I greet her with false cheerfulness, knowing full well what's coming next.
"MARY YOU...YOU ANNOYING...PUNK! GIVE ME BACK MY CHERRY BLOSSOM BLUSH!" May's accusation is punctuated by flecks of spit, which I discreetly wipe away. Gross.
With a practiced nonchalance, I deny any involvement in the disappearance of her makeup. "Take a look around, sis. I don't have it," I say, barely concealing my amusement. Despite her fury, I can't help but find satisfaction in teasing my sisters. "DON'T LIE! I KNOW YOU TOOK IT! I KNOW IT!"
May's face is a portrait of rage, but I stand my ground, refusing to show any weakness. "I don't have it," I repeat, before shutting the door in her face and rushed to my en-suite to get ready for an agonizing day of education.
.***
The house enveloped me in silence as I emerged from the bathroom. "Hello?" I called out, toothbrush hanging from my mouth and damp hair clinging to my skin. Standing near my door, I waited for a response, but none came. It wasn't unusual for me to be forgotten, and I didn't particularly mind it.
Just as I contemplated being fashionably late, my friend called to inform me that practice was cancelled.
Typical, I thought, that captain would be the last to know. To say I was frustrated would be an understatement—basketball was my passion.
I flopped back onto my bed, not caring that my drenched T-shirt would soak the sheets. Today just wasn't my day, and I chalked it up to my sister's morning tantrum. Though I didn't have any close friends, I associated with a handful of people.
Still in my wet T-shirt, I headed to the kitchen for a pop tart and glass of milk. The knock on the front door echoed through the kitchen as I attempted to reply with my mouth full. "Coming!" I managed before opening the door to find Rita, my sister Makayla's best friend, standing there.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
𝓘𝓼 𝓘𝓽 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓐 𝓟𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓮?
Romantizm"IS IT JUST A PHASE?" A story by Betty Mary Johnson, insecure but not easily manipulated. Steady-minded and had an obsession over basketball. With the last term of her junior year at high school arriving she finds herself in her usual routine. Str...
