Nightmare {h.s | au}

1.3

In my years of living in a colder climate, I’ve gotten used to it and have gone as far as to venture into skirts during the extremely cold season. The one thing I’d not gotten used to, however, was how cold it could become when it rained. In the south, when it rained, it was warm and fun because we could go out in it and play. In the north, you better not even think about leaving your house.

So when I woke up and saw the rain, I automatically curled back up in my duvet. The warmth was sweet bliss. This may really be heaven. All I need now is a bowl of strawberries and sugar and Netflix to complete the day.

But my heaven-sent moments were short lived when Reece started to pound on my door and yell that we had school. I groaned and threw the duvet off of me before I shouted at him to stop. That’s when I began my daily routine.

First, soft makeup. Second, pull my hair up—the rain would make it frizz. Third, get dressed.

It should be the easiest day to get ready for. All I needed to do was pull on sweatpants and a hoodie, but I knew that Dad would make me change once he saw me. So I pulled on ripped up black skinnies, a mustard colored sweater, and black ankle boots with the perforated heel and numerous buckles and zippers. Dad wouldn’t be fond of the jeans but he wouldn’t make me change.

I may be seventeen, going to be eighteen tomorrow, but looking good is something Dad has always taught us to strive for. It doesn’t matter what you feel on the inside as long as you look good on the outside. So on that note, I owned only two pairs of sweatpants and maybe six t-shirts in all. There was only one hoodie hanging in my closet too.

Pulling on some bracelets, I grabbed my books from my desk, and ran down the stairs. Dad must have been ready first because there was an assortment of foods from fruits to hash browns to French toast to eggs in different varieties. Plates weren’t made but rather stacked to the side like a buffet line. I grinned at that and grabbed a plate and a fork before starting in on making my own plate.

I sat down at the far end away from everyone. Reece had devoured his plate by now and was going back up for seconds; Sam was devouring what might be his second helping of hash browns because he’d never go near fruit assortments; and Dad was standing with his back against the counter while dipping a piece of French toast into the syrup on his plate. It was nice to see them all like this, casual and enjoying a family meal.

“Sam, what are your plans for Fridays?” I asked.

Maybe if I went back to normal too, everything would fall into place for me. The only thing I’d need to get rid of was that stupid British brat.

“I’m twelve, Eden. You can’t expect me to have my life planned out,” Sam retorted with that snarky tone. Aunt Jenna would have told him to swab his mouth out with soap for being so rude.

“Well, you should start. I need to know so that I can decide whether or not I’ll get into cheerleading,” I replied.

It was quiet all too quickly. There wasn’t even any clanging of forks against plates which made me worry that I’d said something completely wrong. When I looked up, they were all staring at me as if I’d grown a second head.

“What?” I asked.

It was quiet for a little while longer before Dad finally broke the silence. “You want to get back into that? Are you sure, kiddo?”

I shrugged, “What’s the harm? It’ll look good on my application. Maybe if I’m feeling it, I’ll even get on the basketball team this year. I just want to be a bit more involved.”

Dad nodded like he understood. I knew that only meant that we’d talk after supper when everyone was doing their homework. Everyone went back to eating except for Sam.