For The Secrets We Keep

Chapter One

The early morning birds never let me sleep in. Not that I could anyway, with the sun punching my eyeballs 6 O'clock in the morning and all. Oh, and don't forget the alarm. Which will go off in about... Right now. I tried drowning out the noise with my feather stuffed pillow, and while it worked for blocking the sun, the screaching noise coming from my nightstand would not go away so easily. I groaned, and reached a slim left arm out from under the warm covers. My hand flopped like a fish out of water in search for the Snooze button. Wow. This devastating moment of truth could be turned into a documentary. 'And here, we see the majestic left hand crawl the vast lengths of the bedside table, in search for its breakfast; the screeching time teller. It is said, that once the hand has killed its prey, it will then go back to its warm cave of cotton and silk.'
When I wasn't able to find the damned Snooze, I scooted a little more in that direction, little did I know, that there wasn't really anymore mattress left for me to scoot on, and I came crashing down to the wooden floor in a cozy bundle of blankets and pillows. I shot up, and hit my head on the underside of my window seat. I rubbed my throbbing scalp, in hopes of soothing the pain. And finally stood up, and, in an irrational burst of anger, unplugged and threw my alarm clock at the wall.
"This your fault!" I whisper yelled. I looked down at my red painted toes. I wiggled them, to see if the appendages would make an OK distraction. They did, and I laughed a little at my own stupidity. "So, first I yell at time, then laugh with my toes. Wow Dani. You are not the brightest bulb in the pack." I said to myself.
I began picking up the blankets and pillows that helped cushion my earlier fall, and putting them neatly on the bed. I then said 'sorry' to my alarm clock and that I didn't mean to yell at it, and placed it black where it belongs. I sat on my bed, wondering if I should change first, or go pee. I went with the latter. I then walked into my closet, and looked around the three walls of shelves for a pair of jeans. When I found a pair of skinny blues, I stripped of my black booty shorts and put them on. I then got stuck in my Call of Duty Black Ops T-shirt, and struggled five minutes before I was finally able to slide on a white tank top and a plain black hoodie. I sighed before slipping my feet into a pair of black and white Converse and leaving my bedroom.
"Mom!" I called down the spiral staircase that lead to the entrance hall. "Mother! I'm in need of your assistance!" I called again. I pursed my lips, and being too lazy to walk down the stairs like a normal human being, I simply slid down the railing. I waltzed into the kitchen, and found a note on the fridge.
Dani,
I went out to run a few errands, I won't be back until late. I've left some salad and sushi in the fridge. You can have that for dinner. I want you to have your chores DONE by the time I get back, I also need you to run to look in the fridge and get stuff we need from the store. Call me if there's an emergency. Love, Mom
I moaned, and pouted. I looked at the stack of black plates and clear glasses in the sink, then to the messy, crumb and butter covered marble that presented itself as counter. I looked at the floor, little scraps of bird food were scattered all over the matching floors. How the hell did that bird even get downstairs? I pondered. I looked at the front of the fridge to see what we needed. I was lucky that my mom had a good paying job, otherwise we wouldn't have a nice Samsung fridge, and I would have to do the hard task of opening the door. I grabbed a sticky note from the pack that sat on the island, and tested a pen. When I proved it worked, I wrote down a list of things we needed.

•Milk
•Butter
•Yogurt
•Icecream (if necessary)
I looked at the list again, and crossed out the 'if' in the parenthesis and put, 'is totally necessary' in its place. I shoved the note and pen into my hoodie pocket, and then ran up the stairs to my room once more. I went into the bathroom, and almost screamed. I looked like the Bride of Chucky; my blonde hair had fallen out of its messy bun, leaving a curly mess around my head. I didn't bother taking off any of make up last night, and somehow the eyeliner had made its way clear to Georgia.
"Hey good looking. How ya doin?" I asked my reflection in an impersonating voice of Peter Griffin, which was surprisingly spot on. Proud of my first time mocking an adult cartoon, I attempted mocking Stewie from the same show. I giggled. I'm so good. I then heard another voice saying the same thing. I laughed and went to visit my African grey, who was more red than he was his name color. Finny copied the exact words that I said. He then asked where I was going. I lifted him up on my hand, and he snuggled my cheek.
"I'm good Finny. How are you?"
"Awesome." He replied in a scratchy tone. I kissed the top of his feathered head and set him back on his swing.
"I'm going to the store. I'll be back in a bit. Don't burn the house down." I told him before fixing my hair into a messy bun, and wiping away the unwanted clown make up.
I ran down the stairs, thinking that if I wanted to keep my well toned body, I should at least get a little excercise. I snatched my keys off the wall and went outside, the crisp morning air slapping me in the face. I locked the door after taking a deep breath, then went to my beat up lambo. It used to be nice, but my friends really like it apperently, and borrowed one Friday night. My mother said that I wasn't getting another car until I took better care of this one. I sat in the grey leather seat, the interior was still in prestine shape. I started it up, an off to the supermarket I went.