The Bucket List

Life Sucks

Here's a fact for you: Netflix legitimately helps cope with pain.

I sat, spooning the cookie dough ice cream into my mouth on the sofa as I watched Santana and Sam fight over Brittney.

I heard the slam of a door, and then the familiar clicking heels on the floor as my darling mother walked in.

Sighing she put the groceries onto the counter. The clacking feet marched in front of my and stood, right in front of the TV.

"Mom," I whined, slowly moving my eyes up to make eye contact with her grey eyes, a shade paler than my own.

"Emily," she warned,

"You've been moping for far too long. Its nearly been six months since-

I winced at the words I knew were coming, and scraped my spoon around the edge of my pint, shoveling a heaping spoonful of chocolaty goodness into my mouth. Thank God for the genius who invented ice cream.

My mothers eyes softened.

" All I'm saying," she said, prying the ice cream out of my unyielding hands "is that Sam has been gone for long enough. Its time for you to get back on your feet. If the roles were reversed, I'm sure she would be doing the same, even though you left off on................. Not great terms, she still would love you." She added.

Snorting I uncrossed my legs. Hardly. With a groan, I pushed myself off the couch and padded upstairs to my bedroom.

One advantage to being the brightest student in the class is that under specific circumstances, they let you leave for as long as you want. My bedroom door creaked open into my purple covered room covered in pictures, drawings and band posters that Sam and I had painted together when we'd turned thirteen.

I winced. Sam. Even after all this time, it still hurt.

Sighing to myself, i climbed my two stdps ro my bed and flopped onto my bright blue and white duvet. Reaching blindly to the table next to my bedside, I grabbed my glasses and the first book I found, which happened to be the Faults in our Stars.

Taking extra precautions, I grabbed a box of tissues just in case.

After an hour of tearing up because of "allergies" (Why Augustus WHY) I finally sat up in my bed. Wiping my red nose one final time, I padded to my full length mirror and took a look at my unnaturally skinny self. People often assume that being skinny comes from diets. Nope. I'd always wanted to be curvy, but genetics said "Nope. We' ll curse this girl with being short and skinny and make her eyesight terrible, so she looks like some rare bug."

Puffy face ( from crying, I mean allergies), straight brown hair pulled into a sloppy bun (and not the cute kind), gray and green eyes behind glasses, and of course bunny slippers and pajamas.

My eyes quickly scanned the pictures pushed haphazardly into the frame of the mirror, and pulled our one of Sam and I at our first day of camp when we were nine.

Yes, she's in most of my memories. Her Wavy red hair below her shoulders, before she cut it. The same green eyes the last time I saw them, dancing and bright, always like she knew a joke that you didn't yet. A smattering of freckles and a wide smile, one arm thrown around my shoulders.

I, on the other hand, am squinting at the camera in a most unattractive way. Some things just don't change.

Smiling, I thought back to when everything was a little more simple.

Quickly I turned away, shaking off the memory, and jamming the picture nest to their various ones from over the years.

Whatever. It didn't matter anyway.

Turning on my heel, I began walking out the door to maybe sat something healthy, like a cake, when my hand brushed against
My pocket involuntarily.

My hand reached inside on it'd own accord and fingered the now creased envelope, left unopened since "The Sam Incident."

Maybe today was the day.

First chapter! I just wanted to mention, about every second chapter will be a flashback so you can learn about the back story.

Xox,
--Awake--