Pencil, Paper, and Passion.

Chapter One: Life as I know it.

Go!

Awake at night you focus,

On everyone who has hurt you,

And write a list of targets,

Your violent-

     I slapped the off button on my alarm clock and literally rolled from the bed.  I let out a small oomf! when I hit the floor.  I sat where I was for a few minutes, trying to blink the sleep from my eyes.  I was just getting to my feet when the bedroom door flew open.  My ten year old brother stood in the doorway, staring at me.  "If you don't get up, you'll be late to the breakfast table."

    I stared back at him.  "So?"

    He sighed and, as if I didn't understand, he explained slowly, "So, if you're late to the table, Mother will be angry."

    "Mom'll get over it, Tuck."  I laced my fingers together and stretched my arms above my head, yawning.  "I don't eat breakfast anyway."

    "You're eighteen years old.  Surely, you realize the importance of three balanced meals a day?"

    I stared at him again.  "Y'know, Tuck, sometimes, you sound like you're thirty."

    Tucker frowned at me, "That's ridiculous.  You know that I'm ten years old."

    "And you're too literal.  Now, get out, brother mine, so I can get ready for school."  I suddenly grinned.  "It's the first day of my last year and I intend to look good.  Now, scoot."

    He was still frowning when I closed the door in his face.  I shook my head and laughed.  He was such a little freak.  But I loved him.  I yawned again and looked at the clock.  I had two hours to get ready, so, I headed for the shower.

                                                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I burst into the sun room just as my mother sat down at the breakfast table.  She turned to me, "Elizabeth Brenna Sinclair, you are late.  Again."

    "I know, Mom, sorry."  I sat down in my customary seat, beside Tucker, and looked at the grapefruit on my plate unenthusiastically.  It's not that I'm against fruit or anything, but it's not something I want to eat in the mornings, which is usually nothing.  Me and breakfast have a long standing agreement: I don't eat it, and it doesn't give me a stomach ache within two hours.  I pushed the plate away.  "You know, I'm really not that hungry.  Besides, I just brushed my teeth."

    My mother stared at me for several seconds.  "You have to eat sometime, Elizabeth."  She raised her voice slightly.  "Sarah?"

    A maid entered the room and stood discreetly in the doorway.  "Yes, Mrs. Sinclair?"

    "Please take Elizabeth's plate to the kitchen.  It seems she doesn't feel well enough to eat."  Sarcasm dripped from every word.

    I stared at my mother.  When Sarah reached for my plate, I jumped up.  "I've got it, Sarah."  I grabbed the plate from the table and strode out of the sun room, into the kitchen, and dumped the grapefruit into the trashcan.  I dropped the plate in the sink then leaned against the counter and closed my eyes.  I felt my fingers clinch, my nails dig into the soft skin of my palms, and pressed my fists against my aching eyes.  I wouldn't let the tears fall.  They wouldn't stop the hurt.

    My mother thought I had an eating disorder.  I didn't.  I just couldn't eat when I was around her.  Around my mother, my stomach twisted itself up into great, big knots, and nothing would stay down.  Quite simply, being in the same room with my mother stressed me out, big time.  Her snide comments about my eating habits didn't help.

    I sighed and, letting my hands relax and drop, opened my eyes.  I turned and reentered the sun room, pasting on a smile.  "I'm heading to school.  See you later."

    "Be home by four o' clock." My mother said.  "You have a doctors appointment at four-thirty."

    The fake smile dropped.  I glared at my mother.  "I told you that I didn't need a doctor.  I'm perfectly fine."

    "You don't eat."  She snapped.  "Do you know how that looks?  You don't even eat at dinner parties.  I'm sure my friends have noticed.  They probably think I'm a horrible mother."

    "They wouldn't be so far off the mark!" I shouted.  I turned and stalked from the room, my mother's shrill voice following me.  "Elizabeth!  Get back in here, we haven't finished talking!"

    "Oh, yes we have."  I muttered as I reached the foyer.  I grabbed my bag and walked out the front door, to my black Toyota Camry.  I got in and slammed the door.  I sat there for a few minutes before hitting the steering wheel with the flat of my hand.  I started the car, put it in gear, and sped out of the circle driveway.

    I rolled down the windows in lieu of the air conditioner and let the wind whip my hair around my face.  I knew the red mass would probably tangle, but I just didn't care.  I felt free, like all the turmoil of my house blew away with the wind.  I laughed out loud, and it was a happy sound.

                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    When I got to the school, I pulled into my regular parking space and turned the key in the ignition of my car, killing the engine.  I sat where I was and pulled out my phone.  I text two people:  Charlotte and Brandt, asking them where they were.  I waited a few minutes before I got out of the car, heading into the school.  Charlotte text me back first, saying she had the flu.  I told her I was sorry and that Brandt and I would go see her later.  

    I had just made it my locker when Brandt text me back...  That he was at our lockers.  I looked up and smiled.  "I know."

    He rolled his eyes and laughed.  "Stay in one spot and things like this wouldn't happen.  I wasted precious energy typing up that text."

    "Sorry, but I can't promise it won't happen again."  I quickly opened my locker and stuffed my entire bag inside, knowing that we wouldn't need anything on the first day of school.  I turned back to Brandt and grinned.  "It's our last year, Brandt baby, let's make it a good one!"

    "You're so corny, Eliza dear.  But I love you anyway."

    "Thanks.  Anyway, I don't know if you know this but Charles has the flu, so she'll be missing the first few days of school."

    "Seriously?  That bites.  I'll bet she's pissed."  Brandt said, laughing.  We started walking to our homeroom, which Brandt, Charlotte and I always had together.

    "Oh, yeah.  When I asked where she was, she said, and I quote, 'At home with the fucking flu.  On the first fucking day of school.  Imma fucking kill somebody.'  It was horrendous."

    "That sounds like her."

    "Doesn't it just?"  I chuckled, knowing Charlotte wouldn't mind our teasing.  She would love it.  Charlotte was a tall, beautiful, blue eyed blonde.  She was also crude, rude and loud, but she had the biggest heart imaginable. 

    I, on the other hand, was a small, green eyed redhead.  I was also very quiet and calm.  Brandt was also tall, but with jet black hair and brown eyes.  He had an easy, laid back manner and a constant smile.  Nothing got him down.  The three of us had been best friends since grade school and balanced each other out perfectly.

    I smiled softly, happy with the memories of my best friends and I that were currently floating around in my mind.  I hooked my arm through Brandt's and listened to his easy chatter on the way to homeroom.

    When I was with him or Charlotte, I didn't think of my mother, so I was content.  I was happy with them and that was enough for me.  I didn't think I needed anything but my two best friends.