Dome → Isaac Lahey

0.1 : prelude

My brother sat across from me at the dinner table, a plate filled with square cut pizza slices in front of him. In front of me was a water bottle and my folded, impatient hands. I wasn't in the mood to talk; I never really was nowadays, but Piers insisted that I spend time with him, at least for tonight.

"It's been so long since we had a family dinner," He spoke, taking a generous bite from his slice. He had that dumb grin plastered on his face that I just wanted to slap off of his equally dumb face.

"Maybe because we don't have a family anymore." I retort with a sickly sweet tone. Piers' face drops and he shakes his head with an open mouth, ready to speak, but I cut him off before his response is able to leave his lips.

"And if you think pizza is a nice 'family dinner', mom must have dropped you on the head when you were a baby."

Piers rolls his eyes at me and pushes his plate forward, gesturing for me to take a slice. I shake my head and look down at my lap.

"Listen, I know I'm not mom or dad, but I'm trying, okay?" He finally speaks after a long silence. I swallow the lump in my throat and meet his toxic gaze. "We only have each other now. I didn't ask for this to happen. I didn't-"

His voice cracks as his knuckles turn white and he slams his fist against the new wooden table, leaving a slight indent. I let out a loud huff, pushing away from the table. "I'm going up."

Piers says nothing else. I wasn't in the mood to hear about how none of this was my brother's fault. I knew it wasn't, but that didn't mean I had no right to feel the way I did.

After the car crash that killed my mother and father, Piers tried to be the next father figure in my life. Part of that plan included moving us across the country from D.C. to the small, boring town of Beacon Hills, California. I rallied against this; I didn't want to leave the place I had lived my entire life, but Piers ultimately insisted that a change of scenery was what we needed in order to move on. In my opinion, he was only running away from our problems.

Our new house was a small dingy complex- the most convenient one for our pockets. We inherited our parents' money in full, but since we were both young- 16 and 19-, Piers chose one of the cheapest houses to buy, considering the chance of finding a job that would support us both at this age was slim and we needed to save our money.

To make matters worse for me, we moved during the middle of a school year. My first day was tomorrow, even though I've been living here for a little over a month now. Everyone would already have their groups of friends established, and being the new girl in town, nobody would want to take me in. 

I slam my door and lean the back of my head against it, letting out a deep breath I didn't even know I was holding. I needed to clear my mind, and it was impossible to do so in this outhouse of a home. It was also impossible to leave the house without Piers bombarding me with questions. I would have to sneak out if I wanted time alone.

My feet guide me expertly through the unpacked boxes dispersed randomly around my room. It's been a month and I still haven't completely settled in; I would definitely have to do that soon. My fingers run along the top of the windowsill until they reach the small lock switch. I flip it and reach to yank the window up, groaning when I notice that a thin screen was blocking my way out.

I take my finger and apply slight pressure to the screen and it immediately gives away, my finger plunging straight through it. My eyes roll to the back of my head. God, this house is so tacky. I claw away at the screen until it's ripped enough for me to climb through. One leg at a time, I make my way down the 2-story house, jumping off at the final second.