Status: Work In Progress
Mistaken
Chapter One
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Listening to the sound of my clock ticking away, two feet from my head was normally something that pissed me off. In the sense, that I wanted to chuck it at the wall across from my bed until it shut up. Normally. But after a row of late nights where I tossed and turned and or/ stayed up watching movies instead, the ticking sounds actually became sort of serene.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Peaceful. Sleep inducing, if you will. In fact, I could feel my eyes closing as I finally drifted off...
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!BEEP!
Argh, hell. That thing has GOT to go.
Cringing against my pillows while my alarm sirened away like a firing squad next to my ear, sending swift lances of pain across my skull, I wanted to eat my previous words. Or better yet, throw the damn life-ruining thing at the wall and get some peace. Reaching out to grab the clock, my fingers grasp at nothing. Letting out a groan, I open my aggrieved eyes and take a second to wince at the sudden light pouring in from my bedroom windows before I force myself to latch onto the small green alarm clock. Sitting smugly on my dresser just out of my reach.
Still it blares away seeming to get louder and louder as my panic continues. Growling under my breath I reach out for the alarm again, my fingers twist into claws at the thought of shutting the damn thing up. Leaning closer towards It I finally wrap my fingers around the accursed thing and...
go tumbling of the bed with a bang. Ack.
Feeling a lot less energetic then I had been a moment earlier I feebly scratch around for the alarm clock, searching for the silence button and let out a sigh of relief when the screeching stops. Struggling to my feet I collapse into the warmth and protection of my bed and am about to fall back to sleep when my sense of smell comes to life.
A swirl of smoke inches it's way around my room leaving me with an aftertaste of something burnt and a coughing fit that lasts a whole minute. Raising my head of the pillow I sniff the air and let out a groan.
Just as I thought.... Burnt toast. Wonderful.
My brother Andrew and I have been staying for our father for a whole week now, and day after day- without fail- he has managed to burn one thing or another. Without fail. It's given the house a nice smoky smell.
Shaking my head, I bury my face back into the covers of my bed, content to lie there until the world ends or something equally drastic happens but apparently this is not to be. I realise this as there is a loud thump on my door before my smug older brother appears in the doorway, looking like he's been up for hours.
"Hey, Sis!" He hollers, as if his normal speaking voice isn't already enough, "Get up! Dad want's you down for breakfast. Pronto."
He turns away and I squeeze my eyes shut against the pillow and mutter and intelligible groan as his retreating back. First the alarm, the burnt breakfast and now having to get up at all crazy hours of the morning. (My alarm reads something along the lines of 8.30) Yup... It must be a Monday.
Ignoring my brothers previous words I snuggle aback into my bed, content to lie there until someone forcibly comes to get me up, but apparently fate had other things in mind.
At the last minute Andrew turns back to me with a mischievous glint in those blue eyes of his and says the five words that get me jumping out of my bed and scurrying around as if the house is on fire.
"We are going out today."
Listening to the sound of my clock ticking away, two feet from my head was normally something that pissed me off. In the sense, that I wanted to chuck it at the wall across from my bed until it shut up. Normally. But after a row of late nights where I tossed and turned and or/ stayed up watching movies instead, the ticking sounds actually became sort of serene.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Peaceful. Sleep inducing, if you will. In fact, I could feel my eyes closing as I finally drifted off...
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!BEEP!
Argh, hell. That thing has GOT to go.
Cringing against my pillows while my alarm sirened away like a firing squad next to my ear, sending swift lances of pain across my skull, I wanted to eat my previous words. Or better yet, throw the damn life-ruining thing at the wall and get some peace. Reaching out to grab the clock, my fingers grasp at nothing. Letting out a groan, I open my aggrieved eyes and take a second to wince at the sudden light pouring in from my bedroom windows before I force myself to latch onto the small green alarm clock. Sitting smugly on my dresser just out of my reach.
Still it blares away seeming to get louder and louder as my panic continues. Growling under my breath I reach out for the alarm again, my fingers twist into claws at the thought of shutting the damn thing up. Leaning closer towards It I finally wrap my fingers around the accursed thing and...
go tumbling of the bed with a bang. Ack.
Feeling a lot less energetic then I had been a moment earlier I feebly scratch around for the alarm clock, searching for the silence button and let out a sigh of relief when the screeching stops. Struggling to my feet I collapse into the warmth and protection of my bed and am about to fall back to sleep when my sense of smell comes to life.
A swirl of smoke inches it's way around my room leaving me with an aftertaste of something burnt and a coughing fit that lasts a whole minute. Raising my head of the pillow I sniff the air and let out a groan.
Just as I thought.... Burnt toast. Wonderful.
My brother Andrew and I have been staying for our father for a whole week now, and day after day- without fail- he has managed to burn one thing or another. Without fail. It's given the house a nice smoky smell.
Shaking my head, I bury my face back into the covers of my bed, content to lie there until the world ends or something equally drastic happens but apparently this is not to be. I realise this as there is a loud thump on my door before my smug older brother appears in the doorway, looking like he's been up for hours.
"Hey, Sis!" He hollers, as if his normal speaking voice isn't already enough, "Get up! Dad want's you down for breakfast. Pronto."
He turns away and I squeeze my eyes shut against the pillow and mutter and intelligible groan as his retreating back. First the alarm, the burnt breakfast and now having to get up at all crazy hours of the morning. (My alarm reads something along the lines of 8.30) Yup... It must be a Monday.
Ignoring my brothers previous words I snuggle aback into my bed, content to lie there until someone forcibly comes to get me up, but apparently fate had other things in mind.
At the last minute Andrew turns back to me with a mischievous glint in those blue eyes of his and says the five words that get me jumping out of my bed and scurrying around as if the house is on fire.
"We are going out today."
♠ ♠ ♠
Pretty short, I'm afraid. Still getting my act together with this one... Any advice, creative criticism, commentary, etc. would be very much appreciated!