Living with the consequences of her choices in the past, Athena Belle Witwicky is gradually returning to her pre-Juvie life. Going to High School, going to the mall, and arguing with her family isn't all it's cracked up to be. One day, as a reward f...
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As a junior in high school, life may seem monotonous. But when you have a brother who exudes both charm and arrogance, things can take an interesting turn. Sam, my twin brother, always had an inflated sense of self-confidence. While I admired him, there were moments when his recklessness became apparent.
Last night was a prime example. Sam had an audacious conversation with our parents, boasting about his ability to handle responsibilities and secure a car for himself. They seemed to believe he was the epitome of perfection, always punctual, excelling academically, and supporting his music obsession (which he conveniently adopted from me).
The ironic thing was that I followed the same path as Sam. Just because I faced some challenges in the past doesn't make me a bad person.
However, when I reminded Sam about his impending history report due the next morning, he completely lost his mind. He pleaded with me in an almost desperate manner, hoping I would secure him another A for the sake of our precious car. It was as if he were a foolish beggar at my doorstep.
So, I spent the entire night hunched over my laptop, crafting his genealogy report while he mindlessly scrolled through Wikipedia for something "interesting" to present in class. My brother could be such an infuriating ass.
As the classroom filled with laughter, I couldn't help but join in. Sam's belongings spilled out of his bag, and he casually declared, "I have a lot of things." His attention was fixated on a girl named Mikaela, undoubtedly the object of his affection.
Sam began arranging his scattered possessions on the table, which had become cluttered with our grandfather's memorabilia. And then, true to form, he started talking. It was one of his worst habits—he had no concept of when to shut up.
Consequently, I let out an internal sigh, growing accustomed to the sound of his monotonous voice.
"So, regarding my genealogy..." Sam's words were interrupted by a colossal spitball landing on his cheek. Disgusting.
My best friend, Mikaela, was cozying up to Trent, who received a dirty glare from me. Realizing he was caught, Trent swiftly tossed a straw into his backpack, raising his hands in surrender.
"Hey! Who did...who did that?" Mr. Hosney, our teacher, inquired as he stood up. "People, take responsibility," he scolded, casting a stern glare at everyone in the room.
Sam cleared his throat, mustering what little pride he had left, trying to recall the content I had written for his paper. "For my family genealogy report, I decided to focus on my great-great-grandfather, Captain Archibald Witwicky—a renowned explorer. He was among the first to venture into the Arctic Circle, a remarkable achievement."
Sam nervously clapped his hands together, swallowing any lingering pride. "In 1897, he led a group of 41 brave sailors to conquer the Arctic Shelf." Echoes of distant shouts reverberated in the depths of my mind—I'm convinced they were the voices of those men haunting me. It's a peculiar family trait, especially when I touch something ancient, like our grandfather's glasses. Strange, right?
