Just South of Heaven

Esty

It was a couple of weeks before the incident.

I was waking up to the annoying screeches of my mother, something   I'm sure I knew I would never miss. I'd rather the yelling of my dad, his playful tickling to get me up. I always thought I was too old for that, but really I was too young to lose it. Days like this, I wish it were my mother who went.

But, nontheless, I got up and out of bed, already missing the comfort and warmth it brought my body.

I love my bed. God, do I love it.

But, knowing in order to make it to the next day I needed to get ready, I headed to the bathroom, already regretting the day of my reclusive life before it offically begun.

With little enthusism, I threw on whatever clothes I picked up from my floor and left the room.

Texas was a well-mannered Country, and my part of it was no exception. But that didn't mean there weren't any pricks in school. And unfortunately, whereas I could stick to the lockers, my brother seemed to have a sign printed above his head, practically screaming the words Target!

I hated it, but he never allowed me to help him. For me to do that, would only make him look like a 'pansy', and damn it to hell if he didn't have enough names being thrown at him.

Especially when you were the 5"2 younger sister of the schools 6"something giant. Me sticking up for him is an ant against a big, stinkin' boot.

Tall, yes. But unfortunately, any muscle stamina was thrown down the drain as soon as God popped him outta mamas oven.

I sighed when I reached downstairs, hearing the television in the other room, in which my mum was probably situated in front of, eyes glued, never seeming to blink. I wish she were as lively now as she was waking me up.

I grabbed an apple, already feeling the nausea peek itself in my stomach, and as I set it back down, I sighed once again, putting on my teal converse, whispering a Love You to my mama, racing out the door to catch the bus.

My mum was a very introverted person, and never seemed to pay attention to us unless it was to get me to school, in which was in her benefit, already being threatened about my 'lack of attendance' and her 'lack of motherly skill'.

Sad, really. Ever since pops died, she's been depressed, her motherly hood gone, vanished and despersed into thin air, until all that was left were the upside-down photographs of our once happy family, photo albums dusting in the attic. The last time she stepped up there were to put any memories of my dad there, where they would forever stay.

Stepping onto the yellow bus, I quickly situated myself in a seat in the middle, where all the people nobody liked went.

I wasn't your typical girl at school. I had a friend back in grade 9, but that was three years ago, when all of the popularity came to your head and made you drop any dead burden. I was a dead weight, and she let me sink.

My stomach clenched when we reached the school. I already knew my brother was here, he always walked and came here early. He said it was because he liked the morning dew, but I knew it was because the kids on his bus never left him alone.

Picking up my backpack, I stuffed my Journal into the brown material, never having been able to write in it because of the emotional turmoil that was racking my brain. Just the feeling of the binds of the book in my hands calmed my racing heart, but not enough.

I knew it was just another day of having to stand by, while I watched all the other boys knock my brother around. It hurt, but I knew if I stepped in I would only make the wrath worse.

I stepped out of the bus, the earth benath my converse already making me hot. There weren't many cool days in my part of Texas, but I loved every bit of my County.

Excluding Miles and his crew.

Miles was my brothers number 1 masquerader. They were nothing but slimy nooks, and I damned each of them to hell every night, just to get rid of the boiling rage I felt in the pit of my stomach that kept me up hours of the night.

If it weren't for Miles and his popularity, including his massive ego, my brother might actually be deemed cool, in the perspective of student body. But Miles just held that sort of power over everybody.

He could make even the best of people look lame.

With his Southern accent, coco brown eyes and beaming smile, he could make any girl fall to his boot-cladded feet. He could make even the most modest girls look a-top his flaws and fall in love with his good looks and charming demanour.

Honestly, he made me want to shoot myself into next Mondays heat.

How could someone be so cold and so hot?

Who knew. But that didn't stop him from pulling all of his pranks and cruel jokes on others, including my brother.

My brother was always such an out-going kid growing up, always making friends. I used to be jealous of him.

But now I think he's the one envious of me.