Scream

5:30AM.

Alarm goes off, I roll out of bed. make my way to the bathroom and then back into my room once more. I didn't want to go to school, let alone leave my bed.

'I could always stay home and fake being sick,' I thought. 'Or I could just be truthful and say I'm exhausted to the point where I feel awful.'

Hah, like my mother would let me.

I pushed myself to continue my daily morning routine. Get dressed, do something with my hair, and do my makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt off, but I guess I always did.

6:00AM.

I go downstairs, gather my books and other various things I needed for school. I start to head for the door.

"You're not eating?" My mom asks.

I shook my head, "No. I just want to get today over with."

She just looks at me with a disapproving look. We haven't gotten along very well since her and my dad split up. I always gotten along better with my dad, but who the hell cares? He has a new wife, kids, everything. He's moved on. He left my mom, my brother, my sister, and myself all behind. I hear from him a few times a year. My birthday, Christmas, and Thanksgiving.

"How's school? How's your siblings? Anything new?" He'd always ask.

"3.6GPA, why don't you ask them yourself, and I got a poem published," I'd always reply.

My old man would go on about how he misses the kids, and wishes he could see us more. I always think to myself if he really means it, why doesn't he make any efforts to see us, or have more contact with us on days other than our birthdays or major holidays?

"How's Kathy?" I'd ask, pretending to be slightly interested.

"Good, good. We're expecting a baby in March. We'd love for you to come and visit sometime," He'd say, pretending to care.

And that's the relationship with my father. My relationship with my brother and sister, however, is quite different. I'm close with both of them, especially my brother, Adam. I mean, we kind of had to be; considering we shared the same birthday, birth year, everything. He was literally my other half. I try being a role-model for my younger sister, Kennedie. She was three years younger than Adam and myself.

The relationship with my mother... I love her to death, but we argue all the time. I know she's under a lot of stress because of the divorce, but come on. She doesn't need to take it out on all of us. We've always fought, I guess. Just not as bad as now.

6:45AM.

I call out for Adam and Kennedie. Out of all three of us, I was the only one who could drive. Adam is epileptic, and Kennedie is only fourteen.

Kennedie appears. Adam doesn't.

I raised my eyebrows, "Where's the boy?"

"He went outside I think," Kennedie said, "In the garage."

I looked over, I saw movement in the garage.

"Stay here, Kenn."

I walked outside. It was kind of chilly, I could see my breath a bit. But what else could you expect for it being November? I started toward the garage, struggling to turn the doorknob.

'Shit,' I thought to myself. I struggled for a good five minutes before it finally opened.

I walked into the garage, smelling a strange oder. Smoke. To my surprise, it was Adam; putting out a cigarette. He looked over at me, staring. I could see the panic in his eyes.

"Busted," I said, giggling with a smile on my face, "What's the matter, Adam? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He took a deep breath, then coughed, "I think that's exactly what I would be if that was mom walking in the door, instead of you. Or Kennedie."

I smirked and shook my head, "Get in the car."

The color had returned to his face, he wasn't so ghost-looking anymore. He followed me out of the garage, to the car. I signaled Kennedie to come outside.

7:10AM.

We get into the parking lot, find a spot, and make our way into our school. Kennedie heads upstairs, Adam and I head to our first period class. We had an almost identical schedule, minus our lunch.

I make a stop at my locker.

"Don't wait up," I said, rummaging through the messy locker. "Tell Mrs. Stawaz I died, or something."

"Are you skipping?", Adam asked.

I shook my head, "Nah, gonna clean some stuff out."

He nodded and walked down the hallway.

I kneeled in front of my locker, half falling asleep in it. I felt a pressure-like pain hit me, and seen a body fly over me. I fell over onto the floor.

One of Adam's friends. My ex-boyfriend. Mitchell.

"Can you ever look where you're fucking going?", I snapped. "You can clearly see that I'm right here."

I watched him roll his eyes at me.

"What, do you feel like being an ass today?"

"Do you feel like being a bitch?", Mitchell stood up, "To think, I dealt with your moodswings for a year and a ha-"

"Stop right there," I scolded, "If you want to walk out of this building with all of your teeth intact, I suggest you shut your mouth."

If there was one thing I couldn't stand, it was Mitchell Collins. It was like he was determined to make my life hell. I wasn't about to let that happen without a fight. Believe me, I tried staying civil with him, for the sake that he was one of my twin brother's good friends, and the fact that I despised fighting with people in the slightest way. That all changed after I found out some... interesting information. Cheating on me for six months of our relationship. He denies it, but everyone and their mother knows.

Mitchell got up from the floor.

"Go about your business and get away from my area," I warned, glaring at him.

We exchanged more awful looks at one another, and then he walked away. Don't get me wrong, we didn't always want to strangle each other. There was a point in time where we were actually friends. And before that, where we were in a relationship.

"Like oh my god, you and Mitchell are the cutest thing ever! You guys are gonna get married!", Blah, blah, blah. We heard it all. It got annoying after awhile. But eventually, like every other high school relationship, we came to an end. We were 'too different', as he worded it. But we weren't too different to waste almost two years of our lives with one another. Makes perfect sense, I suppose. We stayed friends for a good month to two months before he got a new girlfriend, before I found out that he cheated on me with that girlfriend. After that, hell broke loose. Most people would have sworn up and down that they saw the devil himself inside of me, ready to kill. And if it weren't for me being the pushover I am, I probably would have; or at least injured him in some way, shape, or form. From there on out, we've been in each other's faces, at each others' throats.

It's been five months since then.

7:25AM.

I was still on the floor, sitting there, my mind and emotions going wild. I waited another five minutes before I picked myself and my things up and started to class. I started thinking about everything Mitchell had said to me, or about me.

My rage built up more. I felt myself starting to cry.