On The Run With James Dean [UNDER RECONSTRUCTION]

One - "He was as magnificent as he was terrifying."

You ever have one of those days where everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong, and you think that your day couldn't possibly get any worse but then you look down and realise you're standing in a snow covered street wearing Olaf the snowman pajamas?

Well that's where I am right now. But let me take you back a few hours to explain how I got here.

My day started with waking up a little after 8am. I say 'waking up' very loosely because I had barely slept. My 2 year old baby brother had been sick for 2 days with a cold and fever and had spent the majority of that time screaming the house down, allowing neither my dad or myself to get much sleep.

I dragged myself out of bed and sleepily walked downstairs to where the coffee lived. As I poured myself the biggest mug I could find, I thanked the stars that today was Sunday. There would have been vast amounts of blood spilled in the school halls if I had to be there today.

I took my coffee into the living room and sunk into the sofa. No sooner had my ass hit the cusion, my dad came downstairs telling me to take out the garbage.

"I'll do it in a few minutes when I've finished my coffee, okay?"

"No you'll do it now. While you've been getting your beauty sleep, I've been up half the night looking after your brother so the least you could do is help me by taking out the trash." he told me.

"Hey, I didn't exactly get much slee-" My dad gave me that look that said 'do as I say or they'll be severe consequences' and I was too tired to argue.

"Okay okay." I relented and got up from the sofa and headed into the kitchen. I picked up the trash bag but  before I reached the outside trash bin at the side of the house the whole thing split open, spilling it's contents all over the ground and my bare feet.

"FUCK!!" I screamed in frustration.

"I heard that." My dad's voice boomed through the single paned kitchen window. "$5 in the swear jar."

"C'mon dad-" I said, walking back into the kitchen "-I'm 18 - I'm not a child."

"I don't care if you're 18 or 58 - my house, my rules. And that means no swearing." I always thought it odd that my dad hated swearing given how laid back he was about everything else. A part of me  thought he implemented the swear jar to make himself some extra pocket money.

"You know this time next year I'll be at college and you'll have no swear jar to earn extra money from." I informed him.

"Yes dear and I imagine it will be incredibly difficult to survive without your foul mouth. How ever will we live without you?"

I rolled my eyes and heard a small laugh coming from his direction as I walked back outside to clean up.

I finished cleaning up the mess then I headed straight upstairs to my bathroom to rid myself of the stink of dirty diapers and 3 day old spaghetti sauce. I turned on the shower and while I waited for the water to heat up I took out some clothes and laid them on my bed - grey jeans, blue top and black cardigan. Simple and comfortable.

I stripped off my pj's and tied my long red hair into a top knot to keep it dry. I stepped into shower only to immediately throw myself back out and across the bathroom, landing in a heap on the floor after bouncing off the sink. The hot water wasn't working again. Fuck.

I sighed in frustration and picked myself up from the ground, taking a few moments to mentally prepair myself before thrusting my body underneath the ice cold water. I washed my body as quick as I possibly could, certain that I could feel some of my brain cells freezing to death. Once I was dressed I took myself back downstairs to pour myself another cup of coffee. No sooner as I'd sat back down on the sofa there was a knock on the door.