The Slightest Hope

Chapter 9

Okay I know this chapter is just a filler chapter but I promise something exciting will happen next chapter!

Okay and right now I am curled up in bed writing this because I passed out this morning in my bathroom. I thought I was dying and may have been a little over dramatic about it. (personally, I don't think so) But now I don't have to go to school today! Yay! And I get to miss gym! Yay x 2! Anyways that was just a little tidbit about my life.

Be sure to comment/vote and tell me what you think. It literally makes my day when you guys vote, like some times I jump up and down on my bed. Except today I can't. I might pass out again.

Anyways enjoy(:

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HARRY'S POV

Rose had gone out a while ago, job hunting. She looked really nice in a pink dress. It was the same color of her cheeks when she blushed. I smiled shyly to myself. She was so beautiful it hurt. And she cared for me even though I had nothing going for myself. Whenever Rose walks into a room, it feels like the sun came out behind looming clouds. She was the light of my life and I know I can never live without her.

Drew slept soundly beside me, a worn out book in his hand. It was an old war book and he was showing me some of his favorite events in the pale light of the moon through his window. I could never live without Drew either. I knew someday that I would have to leave and get a place of my own, but I tried not to think about it to much. I was content for once in a long time. And I never had known what I was missing out on until now.

I gently slid from the bed, careful not to rouse the resting boy. The floor creaked beneath my feet as I tiptoed towards the exit. The door screeched open and I shot a scared glance towards Drew, but he simply let out a loud snore and flopped over onto his stomach causing me to smile.

The kitchen was eerily silent without the sounds of Rose making breakfast. Usually the harmony of sizzling bacon, clanking pans, and the clatter of forks onto the table was my alarm clock, but today I decided I would make breakfast as my way of showing gratitude.

I searched the bare cabinets, hunting for a box if pancake mix. They were sparse, only containing half empty bags of chips and snacks. The fridge gave the same results. No eggs nor bacon. Maybe I'll save my culinary skills for another day, I thought as I popped two pieces of toast into the toaster. I waited in silence for the inevitable ding of the toaster. My hand rubbed the smooth granite countertops mindlessly as I hummed to myself a chorus of an old song. Soon, the toast popped up sneakily, causing me to jump. I buttered the warm bread, leaving a piece for Drew.

I took a long awaited bite of toast, my taste buds thanking me in the process. It had been awhile since I had eaten bread and I quickly scarfed down the buttery delight, licking my fingertips clean afterwords. I let out a noise of appreciation as I rubbed my stomach. That was more delicious than I had remembered. I hadn't had a slice of toast since before Josh's death. Three years. My heart sank at the thought of him, smiling so his brown eyes crinkled in the corners. That was about the only difference between us. I had green eyes. He had brown. Other than that, we were basically twins.

I pushed any thoughts of Josh out if my mind. I had done enough crying.

I searched for a distraction around the house. Tv seemed unappealing as I didn't want to hear about the nerve of politicians and their wrongdoings. That was the only good part about living on the streets. I never had to deal with national news. All that mattered was what was going on in my world.

I somehow had wandered into the warm comfort of Rose's room. The pink walls were appealing to me just as the large bed. Her curtains were drawn open, letting the beauty of natural light in. Her room seemed so cozy and comfortable. Just like her.

I cautiously sat in her freshly made bed, hoping she wouldn't get mad at me for intruding into her room. The fluffy blankets rose on either side of my legs and the pillows were similar to little clouds. I sighed contently. I noticed the stack of novels on her nightstand, the common classics.

"Romeo and Juliet"

"Great Expectations"

"Wuthering Heights"

"A Christmas Carol"

"To Kill a Mockingbird"

I fingered a copy of Romeo and Juliet, quickly flipping the pages with my thumb. I had bugged me when people called it a 'love story'. Right there on the cover, it reads 'The tragedy of Romeo and Juliet'. I remember reading it in high school and not particularly enjoying it. I set it back down on the table.

I shifted the books to get to the bottom of the pile. 'To Kill a Mockingbird' peered up at me as I ran my hand over the wrinkled cover. Almost every pages was folded in the corner, marking the page Rose had left off on. The pages were a slightly darkened brown, suggesting it was old and read numerous times. I wondered how many places this book had been. Maybe Rose picked it up in a tiny book store or a yard sale. Or it possibly could have been a gift from her friend or her father. I was more fascinated by the history of the book then the actual words inside.

I swiftly flipped to a crinkled chapter. I read about Tom Robinson's trial, living vicariously through the eyes of Scout. I quickly flipped the pages, learning of his crippled arm and how he couldn't have committed the rape. My heart stung when he was guiltily sentenced.

I slammed the book shut. Even in a simple novel, the world was still a cruel place.