The One Who Healed My Scars

             I rolled over in my bed and let my fingers roam the surface of my alarm clock, in search of the snooze button. When the obnoxious noise that once fled my room came to an end, I assumed I had hit it. It only felt like five minutes later, when I was shaken awake. “Sissy! Sissy, get up! You have ten minutes before we have to leave for school!” yelled my oldest-younger brother Conner, confusing, I know. At that moment I sprung out of bed as quickly as I could, ran into my bathroom, which was connected to my room, and started the shower. Conner chuckled lightly trying to hold in a laugh, which caught my attention. “What are you laughing at?” I questioned looking him up and down, noticing he still had his pajamas on as well. I looked over at my alarm clock that read 5:07, I was right. I had only slept five minutes more. “You’re such a butt!” I teased. I picked him up and hugged him. I continued to carry Conner while grabbing the baby monitor on the way out of my room. Conner is only five, but he sure does love to play pranks. I think he uses it as a coping mechanism.

           My father left when he found out his third child was on the way, and my mother has never exactly been a mother. She’s drunk every night, and almost never home. At least she had enough commonsense not to do any of that while she was pregnant with any of us. I sat Conner into his seat, pecking him on the nose. I picked up a toy truck and handed it to him to keep him occupied. “What do you want for breakfast buddy?” I asked watching him glide the truck up and down the kitchen table as far as his little arms could reach. “Pancakes!” he said looking up at me, giving me a chance to look at his sparkling blue eyes. “Pancakes!?” I giggled at his cheekiness and ruffled his straight, brown hair. Just then I heard Hayden crying over the baby monitor. “I’m going to get Hayden real quick alright, Buddy?” He just nodded, concentrating on his truck so I ran up stairs real quick. Hayden was nearly two months and I don’t think my mother has ever fed, changed a diaper, or even held Hayden really.

           I reached Hayden’s baby blue room that I painted myself when we found out Hayden was a boy. “Hey baby boy.” I said in a goofy baby voice with a huge smile plastered on my face as I gently picked up my newborn baby brother. He stopped his crying and snuggled into my chest. I carefully settled him onto his changing table and changed him. I strapped his blue footsy pajamas back together and just looked at him. He had piercing blue eyes, and light brown hair to match Conner’s. The boys both look more like my father, and I look more like my mother. I carried him downstairs, strapped him in his car seat, having no where else to put him, and sat him next to Conner. I made Conner his pancakes with a smiley face made of whipped cream, and then fed Hayden his bottle. After burping Hayden and cleaning up Conner’s face, I got both of them ready and then myself. This was my daily routine.

          I rushed Conner out of the door, and into my car while carrying Hayden in his car seat. I dropped Conner off at kindergarten, Hayden at daycare, and then drove myself to school. I was already late to my first day of school. I rushed into school, and barley got into chemistry, before the tardy bell. The seats were arranged in three rows, with two at each seat. I took the last empty seat towards the back next to a boy with straight, dirty blonde hair and sparkling hazel eyes. He greeted me with small smile lightly exposing his dimples. I returned the smile lightly trying not to make eye contact. About five minutes into class I was already bored so I started playing with the ends of my hair. I have natural, dirty blonde hair that reached my hips, and big dark blue eyes. The teacher continued on with lectures about his policies and other things in which I had no interest in, so I started to draw on my paper. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a paper being slid over to me. I glanced at the paper, then at the boy sitting next to me, then back at the paper.

      “I’m Ashton, you are?” I picked up my pencil and replied. “I’m Brooklyn.” and from there we had a pretty normal conversation. I found out he had a nice sense of humor and he was fun to be around. I was excited for the rest of this year in chemistry. As, the bell rang, Ashton grabbed the note we had been passing and put it in his back pocket. I gathered all my belongings and waved good bye to Ashton. I started to leave when he lightly grasped my wrist in attempt to turn me around, which caused me to flinch and quickly pull away, not wanting him to feel the scars I attempted to cover with make up. It was too late, he picked up my arm again and looked me in the eyes. I automatically turned my attention to the floor. “Can you hang out with me during our break?” he asked in a soft voice. I shook my head yes, waiting for him to release his gentle grip on my arm. He sighed and kissed my wrist. The sensation of his soft lips lingered on my wrist long after he removed them. “Meet me outside of this room.” he said, his tone still soft. I shook my head again as he pulled me in for a hug. I hugged back tightly and took in his scent. He smelled amazing. I released him and we walked out of class. Even though I just met him, he made me feel like he cared about me, and I liked it.

**Conner in the picture!!**