Life's a Bitch

Chapter One

I stared down at my feet, moving them around in the lukewarm water, bored as ever. I'd been sat around idly for quite some time now. As usual, there was nothing to do. I sighed,  dragging my feet out of the water and padding back into the house. Having a swimming pool in the backyard really doesn't free you from boredom; it only enhances it.

I rolled my jeans back down and plonked on the leather sofa. I noticed my unfinished book laying awkwardly on the coffee table. I smiled to myself and picked it up, deciding to read from where I had left off. It didn't take long before I was curled up comfortably lost in the book, but I paused when I heard hefty footsteps.  Just when I acquired peace, someone comes along to disturb me.

Dean entered the room and sat on the other single chair, peering at me inquisitively. "What you doin'?"

"Reading," I replied quietly, diverting back to my book.

He nodded slowly. "Seen, well go tru."

I rolled my eyes and said nothing more. Dean was my 20-year-old cousin. He was decent I suppose, but an absolute pain to live with. He switched the TV on and the volume was literally blaring. I glanced up again and realised he had turned it over to the music channel. I cringed at the loudness of the TV; my eardrums felt like shattering. He continued to flick through until he finally settled for a rap channel where this stocky black man was waving his arms about next to video vixens.

Dean thought it would be amusing to turn the volume up even higher. I glared at him from over my book. Either he was hard of hearing, or he was really trying to aggravate me. I groaned loudly on purpose, hoping he would get the message, but he was oblivious to my annoyed tone. Shortly after, his phone rang. He checked the caller ID and quickly answered.

"Cool fam." He raised a brow. "What about him?" He turned the TV down and sat up. "He ain't gonna do anythin', Leon...fuck him man. What can he do?" His frown deepened and the voice on the other end continued to speak. "Stop worrying init. Think about it this way; free crow bredrin." He laughed to himself. "Where you, Nando's? You cheap prick!" He chuckled again. "Yeah alright, I'll holler you later." He locked off and I just watched him the whole time. Truthfully I didn't understand half of that conversation. I didn't care anyway. All I wanted was to read in peace.

I quickly left the room. Wherever I go I'm disrupted by the loudest peoplein existence. I entered my room and found comfort on my four-post bed, breathing a sigh of relief. Why didn't I just come here in the first place? Finally I was alone and away from that idiot.

I got back to my book and read silently, enjoying the time to myself which I never usually got. Soon after, I saved the page and left the book at my side before closing my eyes. This is what I loved the most: tranquillity.

Suddenly my door flew open and Taylor strolled in with a comb sticking out of her bushy afro. Her hair was a frizzy russet colour, but she was never convinced with it. Taylor was Dean's younger sister, and also my 14-year-old cousin. She always asked me for advice and often bothered me whenever I was alone...like right now.

"I'm not doing your hair this time if that's what you're hoping for. Get Beatrice to do it," I suggested with a glare. Beatrice was our Italian housemaid. She was the sensible one in this household and I enjoyed her company. Our home was fairly big with over five bedrooms and spacious chambers. Aunt Catherine found it challenging to keep the house clean on her own, not with all these silly children running about, so she decided to hire someone else. Extreme misconduct of money, but whatever.

"Nah, I don't want you to anyway, and Beatrice can't do hair properly." I rolled my eyes. "I'm gonna do it myself this time." I watched her in awe. I never thought I would see the day where Taylor would attempt independence. She was usually incapable of doing things for herself, i.e. her hair. She laughed at my expression. "Don't exaggerate. Lemme borrow your hair grease real quick." I pointed to my dressing table with the attached mirror where I kept all my things. She picked up the tub of hair grease and walked towards the door.