This Won't Be Easy

Chapter 1

     The 8:00 alarm went off somewhere up stairs. Probably his grandmother's. They were all up now. He, Javier Honarõs, was off to start another miserable day. His grandmother came teetering down the stairs, the wrinkles set deep into her face, in her musty pink robe. "Time to get up!" she exclaimed in a raspy voice. She waltzed right into his "bedroom", if you could call it that. His "bed" was a battered sofa, which was more holes than stuffing, that they found on a neighbors doorstep. His blankets were moldy and scratchy. Still, it was better than being uncovered in the drafty small apartment. He got to sleep on the couch, while his sisters got to share the second bedroom because "they're ladies and more delicate than you!", in the words of his dear grandmother. His grandmother essentially raised them all. His mother was sleeping upstairs, getting home from her second job just four hours ago, and would get up soon so she can make it to her main job. "This place is a pigsty" his grandmother said. "Your sisters' room is immaculate!" He hastily swept all his clothes under the couch, then slouched into the single bathroom. He pretended to brush his teeth, than went into the kitchen to witness the daily "ritual". His sisters, the perfect, little prissy girls to everyone except him, waltzed into the kitchen. The older two, twins,who were 18, were Katy and Sadie. Their younger sister, Courtney, who was 14, desperately wanted to be just like them, and followed them around. "Hello, Javier" Katy said, while Sadie snickered. Then, when the twins had left, Courtney said, in an acceptable impression of her sister, pretty much the same thing. He smiled. His older sisters hated him, and the feeling was mutual, with their arrogant attitudes. Courtney wasn't so bad, but she worshipped the ground that the twins stood on. "Off to school, then?" His grandmother chirped. The girls nodded and, one after another, bent down to kiss grandmother ( she barely broke five feet), a smile just barely touching her lips. "Now then," she exclaims, in a much harsher tone. Her now cold stare turned to him. "Where do you think that you are going?" "I don't know, to Greasy's I guess" I reply. After all, I hadn't gone to real school in more than two years, even though I was only sixteen. I couldn't figure out all of the numbers and letters and dates. And with that, I pulled on my threadbare jacket, and stumbled out the door into the chilly autumn air. I heard my grandmother snort something about laziness. She didn't get it.