Guilty pleasure

Little boy

The repeated bang on my door is blaring; like a thunderstorm, it eradicated any hopes I had of remaining in a deep slumber. I knew the culprit behind the unscrupulous actions because this had become a daily routine. My life had practically dawned the new age of a mundane storyline, and like coffee without sugar, it was tasteless and bland. Perhaps it was because of the torrential flow of rain pouring down outside or the blistering wind that cast over our hometown, further dampening my mood, but I had no objections to the way I lived. Learning from years of experience, my train of thoughts coincided with "it is what it is" and I make no apologies because that thought helped me through the roughest of times. Although I have no doubt people would assume the worst of me for having an enervative mindset. Twenty-three years went by like this, most of it a meaningless blur. The only thing in my life that gave me purpose was the same person behind that door causing such a ruckus, and if it were anyone else raising mayhem, I'd have retaliated.

Growing up in a place where nothing too out-of-the-ordinary happened, there hadn't been a scandal to paint this town in ignominy for years. Though I couldn't speak for what happened behind closed doors but if walls could talk, I wonder what secrets they'd tell? I don't assume that everyone in our so called 'pitch perfect' home town were saints either, we just hadn't heard anything contradictory. It's a little coincidental that the town we were living in was called Saint Gardens. That being said, I was swiftly dragged back to reality when my alarm clock in human form cried out.

"Aria, get up!" It was Julian, my older brother. Groaning, I rolled over to the left side of my bed, and in a silent protest, I lifted my middle finger up in the air.

"Don't throw that finger up at me. Get moving before you miss your first day at work," he chastised. It was times like this that made me question whether or not he was secretly telekinetic, or perhaps he just knew me like the back of his hand? After all, we only had each other.

Gurgling something along the lines of piss off praying that he would just go away, I found myself attempting to drift somewhere far away. It wasn't until I repeated what he said in my head that I realised

Shit

I have work.

Expeditiously opening my eyes, I flew out of the bed at inhuman speed, and without further ado, I'd risen from the dead. Surveying the hermit cave I'd been inhabiting for the past few days, I came to the conclusion that my room was a freaking mess and that it needed cleaning. It was a miracle finding an outfit amongst the cluster-fuck I had created, but within a matter of minutes I'd successfully grabbed what I needed before manoeuvring to the shower.

I took some time to cleanse myself under the scorching belts of water that cascaded down my body. I felt a surge of energy course through me, warming the pinnacles of my heart. Without forgetting to lather body scrub across my lean figure and wash my hair, I jumped out of the shower to get dressed. Anyone would think I was running a marathon with how quickly I put on my outfit. After subtly reaching the bottom of the stairs, I bee-lined towards the kitchen for breakfast. I knew I'd eventually bump into Julian before he left for work.

He was a lawyer working at a prestige law firm in Cape Grove City, and as a hotshot defence attorney, he'd represented some of the most notorious criminals. Whether or not that made him corrupt was a matter of perspective, for virtue is in the eye of the beholder. Besides, there was no room for personal beliefs or opinions in his line of work when dealing with clients, guilty or not. After all, taking the job meant one's precious moral compass was a separate consideration entirely. I certainly wasn't going to judge him, though. All I know is that he's a good man, a provider, and someone who always brings something to the table. He'd been that way ever since our parents passed away; he'd gone through immeasurable lengths to help us both survive. Aside from my love, my appreciation overpowered any other outlook I had on my brother; it was a biassed judgement, but none the less, I wouldn't be deterred.