Devour

Chapter 2- Dax

I go upstairs with the others even though I'm already perfectly dressed and ready for the day. I go into my room and close the door, annoyed. It isn't fair they order me about like the others when I am ready properly. And Patch didn't even get in trouble for that stunt this morning.

They never punish him like they ought to for the things he does. And I don't get in all that trouble. And then nobody seems to notice.

I know it's different for me than the others. For them it's temporary. Boarding school if you will. They have families to go home to. Not me, or Jules. This is the most home or family we'll ever have. So it's not so easy knowing that there isn't anybody out there waiting to be proud of me. Instead I have to continue waiting for them. Hoping they'll be proud of me when I die and finally get to see them again. That's why I have to do the best I can. At everything. Forgiveness is a luxury of the living. The dead only afford their watchful eyes and eventually their judgement.

I lay down on my bed and stare around my little room. We got things to decorate them a few years back. We get gifts at Christmastime or birthdays and that's for our room if we want as well. I didn't know what I wanted. That was not long after I got the news my parents were gone and I was feeling very rotten. We got to pick three posters and a new bed spread. We'd all had green and random animal prints since we were little. I said I didn't even want anything. Patch said he'd pick for me if I didn't. I told him to shut up.

Patch picked, for himself, a picture of a sunrise then a couple of really loud obnoxious patterns, with a bright orange bed spread. I don't know how he sleeps. Oh no wait, he doesn't. His room is usually organized chaos, with his various shoes and clothes laying about and like six cats at all times despite our dad's best attempts. Patch refuses to let Cora help him straighten it though, says he knows just where everything is. Of course he has his music collection and speaker set. I have no idea why Dad hasn't crushed that thing I really don't, the hours Patch plays it at the volumes he plays it at. It's the source of all chaos, he has little speakers he runs wires to and then hides those all over the house. He ought not have a music collection, but other than brightly colored clothing it's all he wants at his birthday or Christmas. Now and then Cora will pick him up used albums if her family is done with them or something. She does that with all of us if she knows of something we like and she can find it cheaply or free when she goes to Bucknell or even London.

Emma picked some pictures of great thinkers with their quotes, and then a pretty lilac bedspread, though she did do her best to bargain for books instead of decorations. Dad and Cora go to extra lengths to get her books though, since she's always reading. She doesn't read romances like Patch either she likes great thick scientific books so she can be smarter than everyone else. 

My parents probably would have liked her better than me. They were lawyers. Dad wasn't supposed to tell me that but he did. They'd've liked Emma forever walking around reading and reading at the dinner table and being right all the time. Anyway, Cora encourages it and gives her books as prizes for doing well on her tests. I should feel jealous about that but let's face it I never do that well on tests so it's not like I'd have the opportunity for prizes. Cora has brought me books she thinks I might like and they're fine I just don't like books that much. Anyway, Emma's room is insufferably neat. She puts everything away immediately with a book in her hand I have no idea how and I've seen her do it. For no apparent reason she has a soft spot for Patch and indulges his antics. He messes up her room on occasion and then she tries to kill him and Dad has to stop her. I have a running joke with exactly me that the only reason any of us are violently dangerous is because we live together specifically with Patch.

Nel picked all flower pictures for her room. Pretty up close ones, but flowers. Those and a bright pink bedspread. It's funny considering how much she loves weapons and violence. But whatever. She probably figures she can do girly stuff and be friends with Patch because she can kill anyone with her brain. She's tough, always has been.