Dead-Line (Completed)

Dead-line-Chapter 2

A new music video has been made public today and maybe even started a new fade among the young and the.....

"Anna turns that TV off and go to school. You'll be late!" My mother called from her bed room up the stairs of my old Victorian home. 

"But Amy Kingston is coming on!" I complained, my normally deep voice sounding whinny.

"Get to school!" she commanded. My dad was sleeping on the sofa next to me, snoring away like a baby. I could see his bald head shinning up at me like a pot that had just been freshly washed. 

"But mom..." I started, but she cut me off.

"No buts! Camilla, what do you say to this!" she said, at the moment my dad herd her voice he woke up. He looked like a dear in head lights, about to be struck by a big metal truck.

"Listen to your mother." he said, slurring his words from still being parley asleep. 

I rolled my eyes and shut the news off. "Thank you." My mother said, her tone lightened, "have a good day at school." 

"I'll try." I murmured, grabbing my bag from the front door. 

My parents were re-doing our house, the paint was stripped from the walls, the hard wood floors had been reduced to just bare wood and we had to try our hardest not to scratch them up before my mother laid the Varathan. But our house had been under a standstill of construction for over a year, and I had started to not care. My mom was that type, the type that started something with every intent to finish, but never would. My dad knew, but he was too lazy to help. I was just as lazy, and she didn't ask for help, or even notice it had been so long since she had started. 

I was about to walk out the door when I noticed I had forgotten my money to buy lunch. "Mom!" I called up the stairs. 

"What?" she called back. I could hear she was beginning to get annoyed with me. I swear if I was puking up blood she would have made me go to school, and that was no lie, or over exaggeration of the facts. 

"I need thirty bucks!" I screamed, my face hurting from the sun burn I had acquired over the abnormally hot fall. 

"What?" she asked. 

"Thirty bucks!" I called back, but I knew she wouldn't hear me with the air conditioner on. Our air conditioner was yet another thing that needed replacing, but no one would ever get around to it. 

"You have thirty ducks?" she asked.

"No! I need money!" I screamed for, what seemed like, the millionth time in a row.

"What about honey?" Her shrill voice called back. 

"Oh sweat Jesus!" Dad said from the sofa, his hands covering his face "do you have to do this every morning? How am I to get any sleep?" he asked, holding out a twenty, with a ten sticking out from the back of it and waving it at me. I walked over and kissed him on the cheek, taking the money from his outstretched hand. "I already have to deal with your mother's yelling, I don't need yours to." he whispered.

"What did you say!" my mother called from up the stairs. 

"See, she can hear that." he laughed.

"Fine dad." I called, running for the door, "I'm going to be late."

************

My parents had always fought like they were an old married couple, and now as they aged, they had begun to catch up to that stereotype. They were well off, but to look at our house you wouldn't think they were dentists. I knew from a young age the value of saving money, and how important it was to get a high paying job if you had the money for schooling to achieve it. But I hate teeth, I don't want to have to fix peoples gross, black and un-brushed teeth. Body fluids don't scar me or nothing, but that's thanks to my parents. When I first learned to read, the only thing my Dad gave me to read was medical books, I think they wanted me to be a doctor or something close to it; I had even taken first aid training in the early years of high school. It was only this year that I stopped trying to please them and went for what I wanted. I had taken journalism classes on the side up until this year, but now it's a full time thing for me. I mean, I was really good in medical class, I got strait A's, but it just wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. Anna Micay doctor, it has a nice ring to it, but I just don't think I was put on this planet for that. I was meant to be a reporter, a journalist, I remember the first time I watched the news; I knew that was my destiny. My parents don't approve, but luckily I don't need to hear them wining all week, they are going on their second honeymoon. I can't see how after thirty years of being together it's still romantic, but hey, who am I to judge? I haven't had a boyfriend until just this year; grade twelve has been good to me, all straight A's, a boyfriend and a senior position in reporting the news. What more could a girl ask for?