Entangled Strings (Under-revision)

Ⅰ

Chapter 1
Unanticipated Personage

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IN HER REST, she snores up to thou heart's content...

It is still 6:51 in the morning, nonetheless my alarm clock is ringing, hell'a loudly. Albeit, I'm too tired to even turn it off. Laziness crept within my being.

My indolent self refused to care about such matters. The bed is pulling me back whenever I try to get up. My body yearned for more sleep and my brain agrees to it every danged time. It's as if my eyelids were forced to close by themselves. What are you, a pair of Venetian Blinds?

"Hey, sweetie! Wake up already. Today is the day. You'll move into your new dorm," someone mumbled, disturbing my not-so-peaceful slumber anymore. What a rude creature.

"Just give me five—" still with eyes shut, I uttered slowly.

Then, realization hit me real good. I bloodily need to get up early to prepare my luggage—or maybe just myself.

I'll move out of our house. In the meantime, I will be crashing at a dorm that is owned by a family friend's child, it is technically a big favor but I don't even have the slightest hint of who that damned guy might be, I don't even care. Actually, I do, rather. What if he is a bad person? What if he's a prick? What if? Too many what-ifs under the not-so-hot-yet heat of the sun. Is it weird to not know the child of my parents' friend? No, he's that low-key, I guess? Or is he? I might just be missing out too many pages of an entire encyclopedia.

Might stay until my second semester just to be familiarized with the place and stuff, and if ever I get lucky, he'll be nice enough to let me stay for the whole 4 years.

As if that'll happen? Nobody had been nice to me ever since I was young and it is probably because of my appearance—of course, excluding my family.

I'm too ordinary for their tastes.

But wait, there was someone. If I remember it correctly, I had my first err—puppy love when I was at the age of eleven, and he cherished me despite the fact that I'm normal, too much to begin with. I adored him in return not until I questioned about everything else except his mere existence. Or at least that is what my parents told me. I don't exactly know who that was, but I can recall that he existed before my very eyes.

"Oh, my gilly-golly! Why didn't you wake me up earlier, Mama? For Pete's sake! I don't want to have a bad impression from Aunt Mel's son," I exclaimed irrationally as I faced my mom's nonchalant expression.

Amelia Ross Pirouette, a high school friend of my Mama and Papa. They used to live on the same street as my mom's. There were 4 of them, I'm not so sure who the other one is. I just saw their old pictures in an old dusty album in the attic. Though, he looked like someone I can't put my finger to.

There, I saw our strong resemblance with just a small whip, her whole face was etched on mine as if it was a carbon copy. While, some say that my simple temperament came from my father, both are content with what one could have—a big but, food is a different topic.

"Well, I did, sweetheart. It's just that, you were such a sleeping sack of potatoes, that's why," she then replied, not adding anything else.

Unlike my father, she is more jolly and a bit childish if I may add. She is not the typical strict mother. She's rather happy-go-lucky thanks to her sense of humor.

I did not bother to retaliate hence, just chose to start my morning rituals. Such a big word to use.

'Rituals, huh?'