My Guarded Heart

Chapter 3: Rayna Carter

It took me about 10 minutes to get from Jay's house to mine. Turns out we lived in the same area. I drove onto the driveway and parked my bug in the garage. I locked the garage door and head inside. I opened the front door into our grand foyer.

We had a big house even though it was just my dad, Shepherd and I. Sadly my mom died 2 years ago of a stroke. It has never been the same without her. The minute you walk into the door, you see the stairs that go up to the second floor. Immediately Shepherd came running down the stairs and attacked me with slobby kisses. I hugged my German Shepherd tightly.

"Hey boy," I said as I rubbed his ear, "how are you?"

I gave him a kiss on the nose and stood up. I looked around but no one seemed to be home.

"Dad?!" I yelled, and my voice boomed throughout the entire house.

No one was home. No surprise there.

Dad was probably at some big meeting with his business investors or something. I never really payed attention to his job. All I knew was that he was the CEO of the family Architecture business—which I do not want to get into.

I put my house keys in the tray on a small table in the foyer. I walked through a small corridor until I reached a door that led to the basement—aka my bedroom. I walked down a flight of stairs before reaching the entry way to the basement. I took of my boots and placed them on a mat that I placed there. I walked into my room and threw my backpack onto my desk chair. I walked over to my bed and plopped down on it. I sighed. I missed my bed all day today and the comfort that it gave me.

I moved to the basement last year. Dad had decided to renovate the basement for my 16th birthday. I had a kitchenette and and a bathroom. I had a small couch, a small coffee table, a TV and a desk full of my junk. I had a queen size bed in the middle of the room and a night table with a lamp—so I could read of course. I had a small walk-in closet with all my clothes. The walls were painted a light teal colour, but I had one accent wall—the wall my bed was against—that was painted like the ocean.

And of course, I had a whole area dedicated to my books. The far left corner of the room was lined with bookcases full of books. In that corner, exactly where the two walls meet, was a little cushioned area dedicated to just snuggling up and reading. I had pictures hung up on the walk everywhere; of my mom and I, my family, and especially my dog Shepherd. When I first moved downstairs I immediately bought 8 canvas's cover in beautiful fanart and random quotes from some of my favourite books. Now, all the walls were covering in my personal touch.

This was practically my own little apartment. I had my own stash of food in the fridge, plus an oven and stove so I could cook my meals when Dad wasn't home. I had my own bathroom and I customized everything to my liking.

Once I unpacked my backpack, I walked over to the bathroom. The floor was covered in grey porcelain, while the countertops were a white marble stone. The tiles on the shower wall were a teal-green colour, the colour of the ocean. The mirror spanned half the of left wall, over the sink. The toilet was right beside it, and above was a bamboo wrack that held all my girly essentials.

I closed the door and looked at myself in the mirror. The tight curls of my pale blonde hair were gone and were replaced by loose wavy curls. My greyish-blue eyes looked tired—and I was tired. I had bags and dark circle under my eyes. My face was as pale as snow; almost the same complexion as my hair. I looked like a ghost.

I examined my bushy untouched eye-brows, my small thin lips and my small button nose. I wasn't beautiful or pretty, just okay and boring. I hated putting make-up on. It was annoying and I always poked myself in the eye. I never got the reason why girls like to draw on their faces with coloured powders or black pencils. I was also never a fashionable girl. I always wore a T-shirt, a pair of leggings or jeans, a beanie and my high-heeled combat boots—though I add in a sweater or leather jacket occasionally. A less than average girl.