Guiding Me To You

Chapter 1

       I woke up with murder on my mind. Not literally but in a more, I drank way too much last night kind of way. A look at my clock told me it was eleven-thirty seven. School had started almost two hours ago. For a minute I contemplated just ditching school altogether but then remembered all my reasons to keep it together. I stood up from my desk with my bones cracking as if to remind me, how much I needed to start stretching again.
Yawning obnoxiously I headed to my shower, ready to rinse away all the grime left from the night before. I walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and peeled off someone else's hoodie, someone else sweats, and someone else's bra. I paused for a second before taking another look at the bra. The black and red lacey pattern was gorgeous but not my style, but I knew who would eat up shit like this. Tossing the bra aside I stepped into the shower, immediately turning up the water to full heat. I sighed as my skin burned against the heavenly water, washing away last night's sins.
When I finished, my skin was hot and my palms were red and I had come to the conclusion that school was actually not on my radar for today. Forgoing a towel, I strutted into my room and began searching for my outfit for the day, and maybe the next couple of days as well. After ten minutes, I decided on an old track t-shirt and fresh panties. Graciously my companion from last night had taken the time to braid my dark coils back, saving me a lot of time this morning. Opting not to undo the braids, I stood up and made my way back into bed, ignoring the feeling growing in my stomach.
A cold front jolted me awake and made me remember why only the most daring souls, braved New England's winters. February's chilly air, accompanied by my oddly weak windows, was a duo not even God could face. Reaching for my covers, I once again curled up with closed eyes. Only this time I was met the God-forsaken shrilly voice of Cleo Porter- my best friend. I couldn't hide my groan, as from what I assumed was her perfectly manicured hands ripping the only warmth from my body. "Jesus Kennedy, do you want to die up here?" She asked, incredulously.

"Yeah kind of, it beats some dingy hospital," I muttered, opening my eyes. Just as I did so, I immediately regretted it, because then I wouldn't have seen the firm look of judgment in not only Cleo but my lover turned friend, Issac.

"Come on Kennedy, cut the bull, this has gone on far too long, you haven't been yourself for months." I was awake now.

"Cleo, " I warned, this was not how I planned my afternoon.
"Ken, please just hear her out." One look into Issacs's warm brown eyes, sent me crashing, the small bitterness that had just crept up vanished. I sighed, already knowing he had worked his magic on me.
Cleo sat down on the bed, reaching for my hand. She spoke kind and gentle words, but they were unheard, all I could focus on was how heavy her hand was in mine. I stared at Cleo, zeroing in on her beautiful grey irises, enclosed by her almond-shaped eyes. Cleo had always been a looker, her porcelain doll skin was soft and dewy, and I swear this girl had never even heard of a blemish, but she had her own flaws. Her worrisome nature would be the death of her, and I'd be the one holding the gun.