From The Start

13

Nathan

Since I pulled up to my house, so far, two additional love songs came on the radio as I practically sped home. Taking a few deep breaths, I decided I would take a long cold shower in hopes that I would eradicate any memories of her. I rushed out my car and leaned on the doors to observe my house. It was a modern two-story, five bedroom home with a sleek black painted wood and glass exterior.

People would stereotype us as spoiled brat and snobs but I would lived up to the name, although it was never true. Our family has always been respectful and kind to others, especially my mother. She's the sweetest person that I've ever known and without a doubt cared for every being more than her own self, but once you got on her bad side, there was no reasoning with her. She'd turn red like a tomato and her voice was firm and rough amidst no remorse...

I broke out of my thoughts at the same time that I heard a car pulled up behind mine. A 2012 Chevy Tahoe, that was surely my brother. He hopped out of the huge vehicle with his gym back slung over his shoulder and with a bright and smug expression which spelled trouble.

"How's it going bro'?" he walks up to me and punches me forcefully in my arm. I sucked in the pain.

He flexed his muscles like a greased rat and then kisses them. He was a bit over the top at times, furthermore, I would laughed at him whenever I caught him in the bathroom mirror, mouthing 'I love you' to his reflection and then kissing it... I immediately blocked that memory and rubbed my arm from the pain that still lingered.

"Nothing, just getting home," I replied, trying to hide my hurt.

He gazed at me intently but eventually shrugged his shoulders. We both walk up the stairs of the house and stood at the door digging for our keys with an undeclared contest of whomever could find their first. Brandon got his out before me and I sighed.

Must we always compete? I thought to myself, grimacing about all the senseless competitions we made up as children. Most resulting in long-term mental and physical scars.

I sauntered into the house behind him and took in the strong whiff of baked pastries. Which was my mother baking something delicious as usual. I took it, smelling the aromatic odors of fresh bread ascends out the oven in an accumulation of steam. I smiled inwardly.

Something to look forward to after a long, boisterous day.

For a shy second, my mind drifted to Candice. Curiousity reigning over her cooking skills. Gail however, couldn't even boil water; Her servants at her feet beckoned at every requesr. Cooking whatever she wanted and pampered her day and night. My father adored her and couldn't see past her so-call sweetness, that my mother other the other hand, spotted with ease. She constantly questioned my relationship with Gail.

I rushed in to the kitchen pass Brandon to greet my mother. Her back was to me as she swayed her hips and hummed what Sounded like an unfamiliar tune.

Perfect opportunity I thought, slowly creeping up to her, trying not to make a sound.

I stood close behind her and she continued to shake whilst frosting a cake, unaware of my presence. I tapped her shoulder softly and she jumped quickly with a shriek that filled the room. She spun around bewildered and began to breathe heavily, holding a flour splotched hand to her chest, panting heavily.

"Why must you always scare me like this?" Her tiny voice squeaked. delicately. "You know I can't take the absurdity with you and your brother." She shakes her head and turns back to her frosting.