Lucky For You

1 | Lucky & Thoughtful

Chapter One: Lucky & Thoughtful

"no I don't wanna die,
just don't wanna live,"
~ kate vogel

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   "It smells like a bitch in here," I heard my amazing older brother groan behind me.

   "Cyrus! Panuorin mo ang sinasabi mo!" Mom hissed next to him in Tagalog, basically warning him about his language.

   I chose to ignore them, walking next to dad as we made our way to my dorm room. The hall getting toward it did smell like ass though. I didn't even want to question the cause for the smell.

    "Finally," I mumbled under my breath, reaching for the door handle for dorm 174. I already had the key, so I quickly unlocked the door before being welcomed into the well-lit room.

   The door was in the centre of the wall, with the left and right having a bed pushed against each corner. There was a desk at the end of the bed, as well as a closet. Right across from me, there were two night stands, each pressed against a bed. There was also a large window, which I appreciated.

   "Cool," my ten-year-old brother, Dax, breathed out, walking around me.

   I noticed that my roommate still wasn't here, since there was nothing in the room, besides the furniture. So, I took the gym bag and luggage I was holding, and dropped it on the left bed.

   Cyrus, my twenty-two year old brother, dropped two of the plastic bins on the floor next to me, while mom left the three reusable bags next to my gym bag.

   "Clover," mom called out, and I turned, meeting her dark, monolid eyes. They were also narrowed. "You didn't forget anything, diba? You will have to wait until you come back home if you did."

   "Don't worry, mama. I checked everything off my list," I tightly smiled. Mom immediately assumed I forgot something. Forever the pessimist.

   "Joyce, don't worry. She's responsible," dad chuckled, wrapping his arm around me before kissing the top of my head.

   I smiled and leaned into him before pulling away. When my eyes met his round, green ones, I internally frowned. While my eyes were wider than mom's, compared to dad's, my upturned eyes were on the brink of being hooded—which I always hated.

   "Thanks dad," I smiled forcefully before moving toward Dax—who was already sitting on my bed, back against the white wall as he played on his switch.

   My family was beyond weird, and at times—most of the time—I questioned how my parents got together in the first place. Dad was Irish, optimistic and always smiling. Mom was raised in a Filipino household and always found something negative to pick out from the good.

   But they met in college and fell in love. Now with him being a physics professor, and her being a physical therapist in our town of Waydale. It was south of Ontario, with a population of 20,000. Though, he taught at the University of Guelph, which was an hour and a half drive from home.

   I didn't go to that school. I wanted to be far away from Waydale, and the people along with it.

   I ran my fingers through my wavy, chestnut brown, shoulder length hair as I looked around my room. "Jeez," I mumbled under my breath.

   This room looks like pussy, Clove. You seriously need my help.

    The voice that had been following for months, has arrived. Great.