Hope «h.s.»

One.

Chapter One:

It finally was the basic ringing of my phone's alarm clock that made me smile. Just like in December, I got up, and sat infront of my dresser for a good ten minutes then moved to my closet to stare some more at my clothes. I liked my routine, it's what I did since I could remember. It made me feel at home.

I knew eventually I would choose my typical black, knee-length, buttoned skirt with leggings underneath and a grey sweater on top. I saved a bit of time and chose it a few minutes earlier. I even swiped on some wool socks to go with my boots. My outfit was perfectly comfy and perfectly me, as it always was.

I tidied up my room next. I made my bed, picked up a few random things that thought it would be okay to travel to my floor as I had the window open for a split second before I made my way to bed the night before.

Next, I sprayed my room with air-freshener. It was my way of covering up the smell of the house. My room was my haven, the place I went to get away from everything; so I made it be perfect, look perfect, and smell perfect.

I took a deep breath of my perfect world before opening my door and stepping out into the hallway. I quickly made my way to the only bathroom in the house. It was trashed and it smelled of must and things I'd rather not know. I pulled my old curler from the bottom self of the vanity. I made sure every wave I created with my dark hair was perfect.

My brown eyes tried to concentrate even though noises were being heard behind the door. I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and scrubbed my teeth. After, I quickly used my favorite mascara on my eyes and checked my appearance for a flaw in my makeup and hair. Not noticing one, I inhaled and exhaled before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway once again.

There he was, stumbling like crazy and mumbling which explained the noise I had heard. He reeked of whiskey as usual. And by him entering the hallway, I knew he must have spent the night on the couch.

"Why are you up so early and looking so nice, darling?" His voice slurred at such an early hour. It made me wonder if he even got any sleep or just drank all night and stared at the ceiling; which wasn't something not normal. When I was twelve, I had a nightmare and woke up at three in the morning to find him laying on the couch drinking and smoking all at once. It became a typical sight after that.

"School starts up again today," I responded.

For a father, you would think he would at least know when school starts, but not my dad.

"So it's Monday already?" he asked.

"Yup," I said taking a few more steps, trying to get around him in the narrow hallway.

He grabbed my wrists. "Where do you think your going?" His disgusting breath fanned my face.

"To school," I stated the obvious, his drunkenness making his memory of our short conversation a few seconds ago vanish.

"Oh," he said and let go of my wrists.

I quickly walked away and back into my room. To my surprise, pieces of clothing were sprawled out on my floor and I knew for a fact when I left my room, it was spotless. So I did what I knew was best, I tidied it up. I gathered my notebook from my nightstand and placed it in my backpack. I strung the straps over my shoulders and once again, headed out of my bedroom door.

The hallway was empty which I didn't like. I walked up to the door next to mine.

"Rene, we are going to be late if you don't hurry!" I yelled and knocked on the door.

"Okay okay, one minute," I heard my sisters voice through the barrier.

I smiled and turned around and trudged out of the hallway and into the cramped living room. There sat the evidence of my dad staying up all night. Four empty beer cans were sitting on the side table, and the box television was turned on, but to its lowest volume. A bag of pre-popped popcorn also sat on the table, making the whole scene extra interesting. I shook my head at my dads atrocious lifestyle and headed to the kitchen. I grabbed a water bottle for the school day and two granola bars. Rene was always running late and I knew she would forget about food.