The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 14: Florence

-Florence’s P.O.V-

Small beams of sunlight peeked through my closed curtains and prised me awake. My eyes fluttered open and I stared at the white ceiling for a few moments, remembering where I was. My eyes were slightly wet and tracks of tears had run down my cheeks. It was only when I looked down that I realised I had been hugging my pillow to my chest the whole night. Even subconsciously I missed my brother. With a heavy sigh, I swung my legs out of bed and into my warm ugg boots. I padded down stairs and rubbed my eyes, surprised to see both of my brothers up this early.

Matt’s mop of blonde hair waved about as he danced around the kitchen, holding various cooking utensils and waving them around. The radio was turned up full blast and he was dancing terribly to the tunes of Lady Gaga. On the stove, two pans popped and sizzled, their contents wafting nice smells around the room. Matt was two years older than me, and in his first year of college. He attended a nearby university that was about half an hour away. With wavy black hair, he was constantly chased by girls, swooning over his 'boyish' good looks. I didn't want to know the details.

Jackson however, liked to conceal his face beneath a hooded jumper. He was leaning casually in a chair by the dining table and the cords of earphones trailed out of his hood and into his pocket. He wore worn out jeans and some beaten up shoes, but that was just his style. Hidden beneath the hood would be his slightly wavy brown hair and unshaven stubble that gave him a rugged look. He attended the same university as Matt, but Jackson preferred to stay at home and watch his lectures online.

All in all, you could say I was equally shocked and amused at the situation. I proceeded to walk down the stair with a light chuckle. At the sound of my voice, Matt turned and threw me a lopsided grin. In time with the music, he flipped an egg over in the pan and turned the bacon. My mouth watered as I watched the action.

“Mornin’ sis,” he said jovially. He placed two toasted pieces of bread on a plate and wedged an egg and a few rashers of bacon in the middle. To top it off, he squeezed a little amount of tomato sauce in the middle and then slid the plate over to me.

“Eat up; we made it especially for you. We don’t do this every morning so savour the moment,” he informed me, eating his own breakfast burger.

“We?” Jackson called dubiously from the dining table.

“Well it was more of a ‘me’,” Matt grumbled.

I munched on my breakfast happily. The boys sure knew the best way to cheer up a depressed me. Jackson looked around sleepily and flipped open the paper, speed reading the headlines.

“Whoa, check out this heavy stuff!” he exclaimed, peering at a picture.

“Chuck it over here,” Matt called. The paper was thrown across the room and Matt inspected the page.

I peered over his shoulder and gasped. The picture was shocking and brutal. It depicted a fifteen year old girl lying on a concrete floor, with a bullet wound to the head.

“Police just yesterday discovered the body of Emily Evans, a fifteen year old girl. She was found in an empty warehouse in the east side of New York, with a bullet to the head. It was proven to be the bullet shot by a Tac-Ops Bravo 51 sniper rifle, and a direct shot to the head. Evans also suffered a bullet to the right shoulder and various bruises. Police are yet to find the murderer; if you have any information on the case, contact 5372 8105.” Matt read the text in a monotonous voice. “God, this is horrible!”

Suddenly, my breakfast didn’t look so appetizing. I laid my burger back on the plate and stood up from my stool. My brothers were too enveloped in a heated discussion about the article that they didn’t hear me excuse myself from the table and walk upstairs.