Author's Notes:
Hey! Thanks for choosing to read this book! I seriously appreciate it.
This book may be seriously cliche, confusing, and completely strange to some. Very cliche beginning, but it's meant to be that way, I swear. Towards the middle of the book, you'll definitely (hopefully) see the clicheness subside. (:
I'm currently tweaking the first parts of the book because of the fact that I wrote the first part at 4AM with no direction and a very scattered-way of thinking. So excuse any typos and non-sense that you may see. (: It would help me a bunch of you see anything that could possibly use some changing. Nothing big, just typos and grammar problems. :D
Thanks for reading-
Gracie
NEW UPDATE: PLEASE READ POST ABOUT MY BOOK ON MY PAGE BEFORE READING! VERY IMPORTANT!
I wake up to the morning light peering out from my window, blinding my sleepy eyes. I look at my clock to see that it's four o'clock in-the-morning.
My favorite time of the day.
I tumble out of bed with a "thud" and grab my dirty jeans. They smell horrid; caked-on dirt around the bottom of the ankle. But they're comfy, and they fit, so I couldn't care less.
I keep on the shirt I fell asleep with on, and tip-toe to my bedroom door, carefully open the door--just enough to where the loud screeching sound from the rusty hing doesn't sound and wake my parents and siblings--and zoom down the hall way as quickly and quietly as I can.
I go through the front door, accidentally letting it slam shut behind me, and then run barefooted outside and through the bushes.
The sun is just rising. A bit of morning dew on the ground. The breeze is just right, the grass thankfully still green, yet the leaves are just turning that beautiful golden color that fall has to bring.
Fall; my favorite season. Just before the bitterness of winter hits, right after he hellishness of summer's heat. It's perfect.
I do this every morning. 4AM is my time. Before anyone's awake. Before the business of life comes rushing in.
Just peace. And that's exactly what I need.
I don't stay out for long, because I know that everyone will wake up soon. So I go back inside, and start making myself a cup of warm cinnamon tea. My favorite in the mornings.
The first to roll out of bed is, of course, little Ash, my eight-year-old brother.
"Good morning," I say, patting the spot beside me on the couch, inviting him to sit next to me. "Sleep well?"
He throws himself on the couch and moans, "No...too much..."
"Too much...? Too much what?"
He rubs his eyes a bit, then fully opens them and giggles. "T.V.
I roll my eyes. "You watched another movie?"
He nods his sleepy head.
"Mama's gonna be mad, y'know?"
"Please don't tell her! I was scared of the dark, so I had to have some light." He says, covering himself up with a blanket.
I squint my eyes at him. "You're lucky this time."
Mom comes in through the hallway, pulling her golden hair back in a ponytail, sniffing a bit.
"Good morning!" She says in a chipper, melodic voice. "Pancakes? Cereal?"
