Little Rich Boy

Three | Changes

Copywrited 2014 - @cxmeronokayy
All Rights Reserved
Picture of Luke to the side>>>>>>

♤REAGAN WILSON♫
I ran out to my car with my hardly empty book-bag. It was the first day of second semester, and we already had a load of homework. I hopped in my car and threw my stuff in the passenger seat, and let out a big sigh and tilted my head to look out the window. You could see everyone get onto the busses. Couples kissing, friends hugging, guys flirting. It only made me think about the guy at lunch. I literally could die right now, if it wasn't so hot in my car. I put my keys in the ignition and cranked up my car. The chilled air blew out onto my face and the sweat shrunk back into my pores. Ew. Disgusting.

I backed out of the spot and drove home. As I pulled up into my drive way I noticed that, my brother was home. I sighed and got out my car. My brother, Samual, was an alchoholic. He graduated from high school 5 years ago. He had just got a football scholarship to University of Michigan. He was the head line backer and was amazing at it. My dad, mom, and I would watch his games and cheer him on. He had just started getting into it, about his third year of collage when our father had been diagnosed with cancer. Bone cancer to be exact.

He had always said that his arm had hurt but none of us ever thought it was serious enough to talk to a doctor about. By the time the doctors found out about it, it had already spreading up high into his shoulder, and the ribs that protected the heart. We couldn't do anything about it. Sam and I were devasted, but since he was old enough, he would go into a bar each night with a new girl. He had ruined his career, and was kicked off the team. When he started lacking school work, he dropped out of college. He had been a alcoholic ever since. I mentally winced and walked in, to hear him screaming at the TV.

"WHAT THE HELL JOHNNY! GO LEFT YOU SHIT HEAD!" he had a beer in his hand and he was standing up on the coffee table. I laid my bag on the kitchen counter and rolled my eyes at him. I opened the fridge and grabbed a container filled of pineapple slices.

"NO! NO! UGH!!" he jumped back onto the couch when the other team had made a touchdown.

"Michigan winning?" I regretted as soon as I did it. Waiting for him to walk over to me and slap me in the face.

"Yes actually." he turned around and looked at me. Was he drunk or... I could never tell any more. He walked over to me and hugged me as hard as he could.

"Sam. Are you okay?" I let him hug me as I wrapped my arms around his waist. I never could see the real Samuel anymore, and when he was him, I loved him.

"Yes." He pulled away and grabbed my shoulders. "Reagan. I'm better than ever." He threw his empty beer bottle in the trash and reached in the fridge for a bottle of water. He practically skipped back to the sofa and un-muted the television. What the hell?

I ignored him and took my pineapple and my bag upstairs to do homework.
•
I woke up with a piercing alarm. I threw my hand onto my clock and checked the time it read. 5:30 a.m. Ugh. I force myself out of bed and walked into my bathroom. I turned the shower on and I tore off my clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror. I'm big around the waist. I need to start running again.

Ugh. Work.

The water was hot against my cold skin. I massaged my scalp and scrubbed my body. Warm droplets massaged my back and I leant my head back into the stream. It was so relaxing. I shut off the water, dried off, and walked into my room to pick out my clothes for Tuesday. I ended up wearing a black skater skirt, a white long sleeves crop-top with a pink bunny in the middle, tan laced knee high socks, with black combat boots, and added to my black flat ironed hair, a pastel pink beanie. When I was downstairs, I kissed my mom saw that Sam was asleep on the couch.

"Mom, is Sam..." I whispered trying not to wake him up.

"He got a girlfriend and she's coming over tonight for dinner." I smiled and I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Okay. Bye mom!" I got in my car and drove to prison that we call school.