The Gun His Crown; He The King

Chapter 2

Through the Art of Fear

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This was reality.

That was her first thought as she pulled at the tangled web of a hair that was staring back at her in the mirror.

She had unwillingly forgotten to wrap her hair the previous night, before she had dozed off. So the outcome of her utter failure had resulted in what she was currently looking at.

Her hair was filled with frizzy, matted and tangled curls that was pulling in all sorts of directions. Therefore it looked like a porcupine had taken an interest to her and was currently situated on her head.

So yes, no one woke up with the most perfect maintained hair that was portrayed in the movies and sometimes even in the tv shows. Hair wasn't easy to manage, and it wasn't a simple job that could easily get done and perfected. This was reality.

She allowed a simple agitated huff to escape. Which caused a few pieces of hair that was in her face to drag away for a few nanoseconds. Rubbing her face, she proceeded to go brush her teeth and begin her everyday weekly essentials.

Almost 45 minutes later she was staring back at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She was dressed in a plain short sleeved blouse that was tucked in to dark fitted jeans. She had placed on a belt to match the top and added on a simple lightweight cardigan. Her hair still laid wildly and messily on her head. With a final decision of her utter laziness and agitation from the thought of her hair, she decided to grab it all up and tie it with a black bond, into the form of a messy bun.

With a small satisfied smile to her lips, she turned on her heels and exited the bathroom. Grabbing her glasses off the bedside table and her school bag off the floor, she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. Jogging down the stairs she made her way into the kitchen as her mother was making her way out.

"Jordan's borrowing your car for work, his car got totaled." Was the first and only words she said before making her way up the stairs.

Well good morning to you too. That was the thought that cascaded through her mind at the action. "Well how am I supposed to get to my classes? Is anyone going to take me?" she yelled up the stairs. Unsurprisingly she received no response. Guess I'm walking...again. With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl and proceeded out the door.

Jordan was her 24 year old older brother, and an all around total irresponsible prick, well in her eyes at least.

Her mother on the other hand, could probably care less of what her son did during his time. It was as if whenever he did something way out of proportions and absolutely irresponsible (sometimes illegal), her mother would just let it slide like it was nothing. Including that if Jordan destroyed something, and he needed a quick replacement, she would be getting the bitter half of the deal. Everything he ever did always fell upon her, and in her mind it was just  absolutely unfair. She felt as if her opinion couldn't be any more irrelevant, if not worse in these cases actually.

Ever since her father died, life had gotten a bit horrific.

Communication in the household turned for the worse, and it was almost like they were not all living in the same home.

Her mom got devoured into her work and practically forgot of her daughter's existence.

Then, a year and some months later she found herself a "boo" and they married. His name was..and is Mikey.