It was still dark when I woke to the loud blare of my alarm clock. I could see the moon outside my window, and I could clearly make out the faint constellations that lit the sky, although as I sat , I recognized the sunlight that was creeping up, until the constellations dimmed and dawn began to rise. Slowly,sure, but it was there.
I released a sigh as I sat down at the kitchen table that morning, rubbing my temples. It was my the first day of my sophomore year at a new school, and I wasn't exactly thrilled. It meant new people. It meant having to try to be social. It meant he needed to make friends. And this, as you readers may know, is very stressful.
"oh good,Shaun, you're up!" chimed a familiar voice behind me. I turned to my brother , who was grinning excitedly , while holding a box of cereal in his hands. Cameron, my brother, was wearing a muscle shirt and skinny jeans that were ripped neatly. He looked like some kind of model, really. The way his hair fell perfectly and his shining blue eyes practically drew your eyes toward him, he seemed flawless. But I know better than that. I know that mask all too well. Truth be told he was a bully. I had learned early on my brother was tempermental. He beat me up reoccuringly when I was little, and now I don't bother him, I just keep to myself. He loathed me, and I understand why. I stole his attention away when I was adopted. I was now the pride and joy of my mother. An all A student , who is easily known for his smarts , and who has a tragic history was much more appealing than her only real son, who's only talent is football. My mother had always believed in academics, and dismissed that fact. She always said she loved us both equally. And I believed her, but Cameron didn't and insisted on reminding me I was not lke everyone else. That there was something wrong with me. And so as you can imagine, I sit alone at lunch. And perhaps this is why I hate school so much.
Because here, no one will protect me. And I have no one.
YOU ARE READING
Paintings
Teen FictionPeople stare as we walk by. They're eyes always trail us. Yet , I don't blame them, I more so understand why they gawk at us. I would gawk too. As I look up at the tall ,muscled teenager next to me, I have to notice his cold eyes as he glares at th...
