Seeing Things Through Her Eyes

Chapter Two - A Fresh Start?

Dedication to MyNameIsAlexis for also making me a great cover! Check it out please:  http://i1168.photobucket.com/albums/r487/RaechelAn/cover_zps2d4fb857.jpg[/IMG]

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Rachel's POV

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*Beep beep*

I groaned as my phone alarm went off, filling the dark room with ear bursting beeps. The joys of Monday mornings, I thought to myself as I randomly hit things on my bedside table, hoping to get lucky and turn my phone alarm off. I slammed my hand right down onto a pin that I'd taken out of my pin board and left it there.

"Ouch!" I screamed in agony, jumping out of my skin, pulling my hand away from the table and into my lap.

I sat up in the dark and tried to inspect my bleeding hand. The pain was pounding from my wrist through to my fingers. Ignoring the annoying alarm somewhere in my room, I walked over and turned my dull light on, being careful not to knock my hand on anything, which I have a habit of doing when walking around my room in the dark. I sat back on my bed and pushed a tissue onto my bleeding hand, wincing in pain when the material touched the cut. My alarm continued to beep in the background.

"RACHEL TURN YOUR ALARM OFF!" My sister shouted at me from the kitchen where she was sorting out my lunch for school. She can be so grumpy.

I didn't bother shouting back, knowing she'd get annoyed if I did. Five seconds later, my alarm was still ringing, I heard her furious footsteps storming swiftly up the stairs. She didn't sound happy, mornings really aren't her thing. She forced my door open, a scowl stuck on her face, "Rachel, did you hear me, turn that-" She stared at the bloody tissue pushed onto my hand, "Are you okay? What happened?" She walked over to me and sat on the edge of my bed, placing her arm around me to try to comfort me. I watched as her scowl turned into concern.

"I'm fine it's nothing, I left a pin on my table and I caught my hand on it. Only, it won't stop bleeding," I told her, trying to stop her from fussing over me, I was fine.

"Come here," She instructed bossily.

She gently but forcefully took hold of my painful hands, pulled me into the bathroom and turned the hot water tap on fast. Every few seconds she felt how warm the water was and when it was not too warm, but warm enough, she turned the tap down and pulled my bleeding hand under the tap. I stared at the sink as the water went from clear to a dark red. It looked like someone had been murdered in our bathroom sink. Nice.

"Keep it under the tap, if it gets to hot turn the cold tap on."

"I'm not three year old," I laughed at her concern, she was a great sister. She acted like more of a mother than a sister, sometimes.

She walked off and found a flannel in the airing cupboard. She let it soak under the tap for a few seconds before squeezing all the extra water out. My hand slowly stopped bleeding or maybe it just looked that way because it was mixed in with water. She held out her hand, signalling me to put my hand there and began to dab at the cut. Every time the fabric touched it I winced and tried to pull my hand away. When it stopped bleeding she dried my hands with the towel. I smiled at her, finding it cute how protective she was at the slightest things. She never used to be like it, only since our parents died in the car crash last September. I guess she sort of had to go from being a sister to being a mum, a dad and a sister. She does her best to look after me, even though I'm a pain.

"There's plasters downstairs if you want one, I suggest you move that pin and be more careful next time. Hurry up and get ready or you'll be late for school," She fussed again, before laughing and playfully swatting me round the head with the hand towel.