Glowing Cigars

Part 1: An Apple for the Teacher

Give a man a match, and he'll be warm for a minute, but set him on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

Five part Prologue

Part I: An Apple for the Teacher-

I sat criss crossed in front of the mirror studying myself.

My reflection revealed nothing new, excluding a small pimple spotted on my right cheek. I'd have to get rid of that sucker soon. I had the same big Brown eyes my mom had obsessed over since I was just a baby. My dark ombre hair pooled to my hips in tight curls. I had the same soft features that you could easily compare to myself 5 years prior. I checked my teeth for any hint of cavities.
Still none.

I sighed thinking of my generic life style. It was getting so boring and aggravating.

Im always keeping up this reserved, good girl charade. Deep down I wanted to curse my father out, and expose the secret he thought no one knew about him. But instead I smiled at him daily, feigning innocence after catching him in the act. I wanted to scream at my mother, and call her out for her clueless attitude. Instead I helped her cook and clean like the blameless child. I wanted to punch my twin brother in his stupid, stupid face. Instead, I covered for him when he snuck out, helped him out with financial problems, and watched over him like a guardian angel.

And now my head hurts.

I spotted a green light flashing in the background of my mirror, demanding my attention. The numbers 6:47 imprinted itself into my brain. Time flies by when your thinking to yourself.

I stood up dusting my blue jeans off and glanced at the yellow cardigan buttoned neatly down my torso. Finally deciding I was wrinkle free I slowly descended the creaky wooden steps, trying not to wake dumb and dumber. I found my mom in the kitchen with a stack of blueberry pancakes flanking her left side. She was humming along a song I had faint memories of.

"Hey sweetie!" My Mom called loudly after catching a glimpse of me from across the hall standing at the last step. "How did you sleep last night?" She called loudly. She probably couldn't hear herself over the sizzle of the burning bacon she just put on. Why she insisted on being a typical mom? Only she could tell.

"I slept fine, Mom." I answered, walking closer to her.

"Would you like some help?"

"Sure sweetie, just go set the table."

I walked over to the table and did just as my mother had commanded, like some sort of perfectionist robot. I then took her commands further by laying the bacon and pancakes neatly on each of the four plates, waiting for her to finish up with the scrambled eggs.

I mentally cursed myself for being so selfless and slumped down into a cream colored chair. As soon as I directed my hand in the direction of a fork, my brother came pummeling down the stairs. He rustled my hair and grabbed my plate.