Surviving the Gregory Brothers

Chapter 21: I'm Late?

Chapter 21: I'm Late?

"We Are Young" by Fun. blared through my alarm clock.

I groaned at my waker as it gradually got louder and louder until it was breaking my ear drums with the melodic beating.

Grawr.

I took a peek from my fluffy pillow at the time; it blinked 7:00 AM.

I groaned again.

Why oh why must I wake up this early? I just wanted to sleep in my huge, soft bed--bed? I swear I fell asleep on the couch two floors down.  Maybe i'm just going a little crazy.

"CHARLOTTE! WAKE UP! IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL!" Alex yelled in my room, he ran over to my bed, and I felt a huge mass collapse onto my bed right next to me.

"Menhhhh, Alex.... Five more minutes."

"Nope, school starts at 8:30. Wakey wakey!"

"Nooooo." I whined.

He got up, and started to violently jump on the bed yelling, "CHAR, CHAR, CHAR! WAKEY WAKEY!"

"GAH!" I bounced to the floor and right onto my ass, "I am so much definately up!" I yelled while laughing as I got up on my feet.

"Go get dressed and dolled-up," he looked at the make-up and hair products all over the desk-top of the vanity mirror, "then come down, we will get breakfast on the way to school." he ordered, I felt like a litle girl. Blah.

I went to the bathroom and looked at myself. I saw a young girl who is scared, her thoughts muffled by a scream.

Dumbstruck hit me like a train, strait in the face with no warning. I cried, desperate and mournful. I turned on the faucet and stared at myself. I splashed some water eagerily trying to get rid of the horible image of the tortured young girl.

She was the representation of me during that horrific day. I felt like her. Scared and vulnerable. She was my inner sole, how I looked. So scary.

I cried on. I held my body up weakly by my arms against the wall. I collapsed to the ground finally allowing sixteen years of emotion to eat me up on the floor.

Scared. Terrified. Angry. Panicked.

Like I had nothing in the world that would save me.

I looked up again to the mirror. Silently sobbing.

I looked again. Blinked. Rubbed my eyes. Yet the image of my paretns stayed. Looking at me. What kind of illusion is this? Are my eyes playing tricks on me?

 My mother spoke, "Move on, what happened has happened, you are in a good place now."

I screamed back, "HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT! You deserted your children, neglected us. Now you are telling me to move one from what happened! You killed yourselves in order to save yourselves. I am not in a good place! I want my old family!"

"Don't hurt yourself because of what we did," my father said, "Don't chose wrong. Don't look back, just keep moving forward."

"I can't!"

"Why is that?" They both said this time.

Why is that? Truly. Maybe I took my grandfather's last words too seriously. I have no reason not to live, I have been through so much though.

"You are strong. Move on." My mother said sweetly.

"Well you know nothing! You are dead!" I cried out, in frustration, I slammed my hand down on the marbled counter, most likeley shattering my hand that had just healed from the time I had punched the mirror. "You are dead." I wimpered. My voice trailed on.

I dragged my body from the bathroom to my room.

I went and picked out blue skinny jeans, a white blouse, a yellow jacket and some black converse and went to the vanity mirror to fix my face and hair. I looked like shit. Maybe because that is the way I felt. Like shit and everything was so confusing and scary. Yes. My life is scary.

Did I really just speak to my parents? The same ones that died so many years ago? That left me and my siblings on their own, owned by some scary Spanish trio? How could that be? They no longer lived. How was I able to see them if it wasn't my imagination.

Damn. My hand really hurt. I looked at it, and tried to move it around, and just ended up moaning from the pain.

The thought of my parents kept on my mind.

I trudged downstairs, still un aware of my surroundings. I looked around and found some sports tape and a brace. I popped my bones into place, and hissed as the pain intensified. I closed my eyes. My hand was throbbing. I skillfully managed to put on the hand-brace without too much more pain.

"What happened?" a deep voice startled me.

I spun around to find myself face to face with Preston.

"What did you do? Punch a brick? Let me look at it." He stared into my eyes, and gently took my broken hand.

"No I got it. It's in a brace." I said, thought I didn't move because he had my hand, and if I pulled, It would really damage it.

He smirked and took of the brace smoothly. He took off the tape that held my pointer and middle finger together, and felt around. I closed my eyes and told myself I was imagining the pain.

I felt him run cold water, and put my hand in it. It felt really good. Then he started to heat up the water slowly, until my hand was slightly burning. Then he hugged my hand to his chest, and also, knocking all my bones into place, then into a fist. He slowly straitened my fingers, and put on the cast once more. My hand was sore, but the pain was reletively gone.

I stood there amazing.

"How?" is all I said.

"Your welcome." and with that, he strutted out of the room.

Well then... Thank you Preston?

GAH. It was almost time to leave!

"Char! Char! We gotta go! Did you eat?"

"Er, hold on!"

I grabbed an apple, made my way to the door to find Alex, Tyler, Blake, Preston, Aaron, and Evan all waiting for me.

Tyler frowned when he say my hand, "Stop injuring yourself girl. Come on, here is your bag. Get your wallet. Lets go to school. We are already late. Come on! Hustle!" but, I was already sprinting upstairs to get my wallet and coat.

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SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. I had re-written this chapter about--four times?

Haha, hope you enjoyed it.

Next chapter is at school! ;O

FAN! COMMENT!  VOTE!!!!!! ^.^

 We Are Young by Fun ft. Janelle Monae in the side bar.