✎ 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄

-ARE GENIES REAL?

I sighed, the air hitting a curl that was on the side of my lip, blowing it back. Lifting a hand, I fixed the glasses on the bridge of my nose. I then looked back at my book, yet the words seemed like a puzzle.

Today, I couldn't focus on anything. Today, no one bothered me. Today was unusual. I was not picked on, I couldn't focus, everything seemed to go as I wished everyday when I got out of my bed which was weird.

Are genies real?

I peeked up from my book, seeing no one in this section of this part of the library. Very weird, indeed.

Was something going on today or was it just my lucky day? Whichever one it is, I'm happy it's happening. I took out my headphones and started to play Taylor Swift, her Folklore album.

"I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit." The lyrics blasted throughout my ears. I didn't have any friends, not that it mattered, though. Even if my brother isn't the best role model, I have him. That's all I need.

He's been there for me when mama went through some stuff, leaving me and him. He was there when daddy left because mama became an alcoholic.

"And if my wishes came true, it would've been you." I mumbled the line, smiling to myself.

Daddy was my superman until he wasn't. I would have left mama too, but he didn't even bother taking us. It was in third grade when I came home and he wasn't there. My brother was still at school, so I searched all over the empty house for anyone. No one was there.

My brother came thirty minutes later and he found the note daddy left pretty quickly. I was scared and only focused on finding my daddy which is probably why I couldn't find it.

Two hours later, mama was home. Her face was red, a bottle of alcohol in her hand. She reeked of weed. Her white tank-top was wet, brown spots on it. Her sweats were dirty as well. My brother told me to go to my room while he figured stuff out with mama. Till this day, I still don't know what they argued about.

But now, I'm nineteen and a better person than I was before.

The song changed to Cardigan. I readjusted my glasses and flipped the page, fixing how I was snuggled up into the bean bag.

"If any of you hurt her I will shoot you myself. Warner barks." I read mentally. Gasping, I put the book down, my thumb between the pages. A blush took over my face as I used my other hand to cover my mouth and squeal quietly.

Just as I was about to open the book back open, I put it down and felt the urge to just jump up and down. No, Stella. No, no.

I kept the need inside of me and continued reading. Or I was going too.

Suddenly, someone barged into the library, yelling my name. Who the hell-?

"Stella Morgan?" The female voice came again. "Here." I stood up, putting a bookmark in the book and shutting it. I left the book on the bean page and stood up, going to the girl.

"Your brother needs you." He never needs me. I frown, nodding. "Follow me." She smiled. She had blonde hair and light blue eyes, a straight jawline.

I followed her out of the library, taking off my headphones and let them sit around my neck.

We walked through the large school until we reached the art room. Not surprising he's here; he loves to paint.

She opened the door for me, revealing all of the art students in the big room that smelled like paint and old books. Well of course it smelled like paint, Stella.

The girl left right after she opened the door.

I kept my head down, biting my bottom lip. I never was good with big crowds, or people at all. Especially since today was going so well.

"Ella!" My brother yelled. I turned to Chandan, looking up. "C'mere." He smiled. Slowly, I walked up to him.

We both shared the same light, wavy brown hair. Mine went to the middle of my back while his ended just above his collarbones. I may or may not have forced him to do half up half down. His eyes were brown while mine on the other hand, was a blue.

"Chandan." I greeted. I had a strong jawline, tan skin. My boobs were somewhat big, a long torso yet stood five foot three and a small waist. He grabbed my waist covered by my dark blue flare out jeans and pulled me closer to his side. He was standing on a high chair, so he could kiss my forehead.

I blushed, yet I couldn't voice that I didn't want him to do it in front of everyone, so I stayed silent.

"I've got a surprise for you at home." Is that all he seriously needed? I rolled my eyes, nodding. "Okay, bubba." He smiled widely, brushing some of my hair off of my shoulder and bit my shoulder.

I had on a sage green shoulderless top, my low-waisted pants being held up by a vintage belt.

"That's for eating my last cookie." He laughed. "Fuck off." I chuckled. "Don't you have class or something?" He asked, some of the people now stopping looking at us. "I was just about to go." I smiled. "Good. I love you, bye." He said his goodbyes.

"I love you, too. Bye." I walked out of the room, putting my music back on. I wonder what's the surprise. Maybe a pet? We're not allowed to have dogs here on campus, so that's why it's at home.

Our home is currently being used by my aunt and uncle because they had sold theirs for some odd reason. Thankfully, it happened the second I was just moving into my dorm so no one would be there to bother them.

My family is a very weird family, actually. That's okay, though. As long as we have each other, we're okay.

"Hey, hey, hey. You're a big girl, alright? Plus, you don't look pretty crying those sad tears." My brother appeared out of nowhere. He's twelve while I'm ten. Somehow, he's managed to keep us living without any parents around. I never had any contact with my family.

I smiled at that memory. Everyone reunited when I was fourteen and my brother was seventeen. We didn't need them—we were perfectly fine on our own. I got a job at the ripe age of twelve and my brother did too at the same age.

We weren't poor because I knew where mama kept extra money for her drugs and alcohol, which was a lot.

I arrived at the library and packed all my stuff up, slinging my backpack around my shoulder and walking to my next class.

"Ella!" Chan yelled from his room as I counted the money I made this week. "Yeah?" I answered. "How much?" He questioned. "Around two hundred and twenty five dollars. You?" It went silent before his answer. "Four hundred and sixty dollars." He replied. I sighed, putting the money in a jar and laying flat on my bed.

"We just need one hundred and one." I groaned. "I'll work double-" I cut him off. "No. You worked double last week, it's my turn to work double this week." I stopped him.

We worked our butts off because who would believe us? I made the stupid mistake of telling the police and they thought I was lying. That day, I noticed how cruel this world really is.

I noticed that you can't trust anyone.