My Best Friend, Death

My Best Friend Death {Chapter 5}

My head felt heavy, like someone had both their hands around my skull and was slowly applying pressure.  I didn’t want to get up for school or go anywhere besides the other side of my soft bed, but I had to.

“Sam, come on!  Your breakfast will get cold!”  My mother called to me from downstairs.  I groaned and rolled over, not thinking about the lack of bed I was rolling ont.  I screamed, falling off the bed and onto the cold floor.

“I’m up!”  I called back, getting up off the uncomfortable floor, “I’ll be down in a few minutes!”

I didn’t bother making my bed; it was a stupid thought if I was going to sleep in it tonight.  I lumbered over to my “un-spelled” closet and opened it, revealing two racks of neat clothes.  I grabbed my faded blue jeans and my Chucks.  I then walked over to my drawers and took out my favorite Paramore t-shirt and my suspenders for creativity.  I pulled on my gathered clothes, letting the suspenders hang, and went into the bathroom.  I groaned when I saw that the door was closed and locked.

“Whatever,”  I muttered to myself, “I’ll just finish when I’m done eating.”

I lumbered downstairs and sat down in front of my luke-warm plate of food.

“Eat up.”  My father said, sitting across the table from me, morning paper blocking his face.

“Good morning to you too, Dad.”  I muttered mainly to myself, but then smiled when I heard a faint “Good morning” come from behind the newspaper.

We ate in silence, my dad and I, and when I was finished I put the plate into the sink.  As I walked out of the kitchen, I ruffled my dad’s hair, something that has become a habit for me.  I then lightly touch the left handle on his wheelchair, another habit of mine.  I pass Zachariah in the hall-way, his ruffled hair and small yawn telling me he is not fully awake yet.  I smile at him and ruffle his hair as well, and he moans sleepily.  I make my way up the stairs turning to go to the bathroom, but I end up hitting a closed door, with my face.

“Damn it!  Chealsey, I swear if you don’t get out of this bathroom now, I will kill you!”  I yelled at my older sister.  Of course, she really wasn’t my sister, I was the adopted one.

“I can stay in this bathroom as long as I want.”  She says and opens the door, stepping out.  I almost choke on the combination of her strong perfume, hair-spray, and make-up she caked her face with.  I glare at her and sneeze. “And that was as long as I wanted to stay in there.”

“Whatever.”  I say and roll my eyes, walking into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door.  Chealsey always had to be right, even if she was wrong.  I quickly brushed my teeth and hair, not bothering to put on any make-up today.  I grabbed my red beanie from my room and balanced it on the back of my head.  I then swung my aged checkered backpack over my shoulder, pocketing my iPhone and plugging in my ear buds.  I pressed play and a song hammered in my ears.  “Dirty Night Clowns” came on and I opened my front door, the cold air hitting me like the bathroom door.  I got over my daze and looked around for my ride.  I soon heard the soft hum of The Striker and smiled.  He was on time today.

“Are you going to make me wait?”  Captor called from his open window.  I shook my head and jogged to his car, which we had named “The Striker”.

“You’re on time today, Sol.”  I said once I had gotten into the old Mini Cooper.

“Stop calling me ‘Sollux’.”  Was all he replied with and he began to drive, “You’re the hacker, Sollux.”

I rolled my eyes at him and replied, “Fine, I’ll call you ‘Captor’, your real name.  Because that is so interesting.”

He smirked at my willingness to give up.  I stopped the song I was listing to and took out the ear buds, looping them around my neck.  His Ray Bans had gone slightly askew and I smiled at his nerdiness.  His blonde hair barely made his eyebrows and his eyes were a soft and deep blue.  He had this lopsided smile that reminded me of a child before they lost their innocence.  Captor was only a year older than me, but we were still both juniors.  He had gotten held back in second grade, and we’ve been friends since.