Bloodlines and Betrayal

1. 🐺

BEEP! BEEP! The alarm clock screamed into the quiet dawn, dragging me from the depths of a blissful sleep. My hand groped for the snooze button, fingers brushing against the cold plastic in my half-conscious state. A few more minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, right? But the relentless beeping only grew louder. I groaned, slapping the clock with frustration and finally surrendered to the reality of morning.

With a heavy sigh, I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. The remnants of my dreams clung to my mind, but I shook them off, unwilling to let them hold me hostage. A splash of cold water on my face helped to break the grip of sleep. The chill sent a shiver through me, but it worked, snapping me back to the world of the living.

Sunlight streamed through the tall black curtains of my room, spilling warm rays across the antique furniture. The deep burgundy walls, adorned with ornate trim, gave the space a regal, almost mysterious aura. My gaze wandered to the balcony—my favorite spot—where I could see the sprawling forest beyond the grounds. The spiral staircase beckoned me, offering an escape into nature, its cool embrace just a few steps away. I hesitated, the temptation to retreat back into the cocoon of my blankets strong, but I knew today was too important.

It was my first day of junior year.

The storm from the night before had left the air rich with the scent of wet leaves and fresh earth. The fragrance lingered in the cool morning breeze, whispering an invitation to linger in bed. I could almost feel the ghost of my little sister, Hazel, who had no doubt sought refuge in my bed during the thunderstorm. Her small, restless movements, her soft breathing—those were comforting reminders of our bond, even if they had interrupted my sleep.

"Charlie, wake up! It's time to get ready!" Hazel's voice rang out, filled with energy as she bounced on my bed, her bright eyes wide with excitement.

"Just five more minutes, Hazel," I mumbled, pulling the covers over my head in a futile attempt to block her out.

"No way! You're going to be late! And remember, Mom promised chocolate chip pancakes?" She declared with unrestrained glee, flinging open the curtains and flooding the room with sunlight.

"Alright, alright, I'm getting up," I said, rolling out of bed. "Just give me a moment to wake up, and I'll meet you downstairs."

"Yay! See you soon!" she chirped, practically skipping out of the room.

I smiled despite myself. Hazel's boundless energy was always a bright spot in my mornings, and as much as I hated waking up, she made it bearable. After a stretch, I dragged myself to my walk-in closet, the large oak doors creaking open to reveal my wardrobe. A sea of dark hues, band tees, and a few dresses my mom insisted I needed for "special occasions" stared back at me. I grabbed my favorite dark blue jeans with holes in the knees, a red V-neck top, and my trusty black Converse shoes.

After a quick, hot shower, I combed through the tangles in my long chocolate-brown hair, then dressed quickly. The mirror reflected a girl who looked more ready to face the world than I felt, but the flicker of unease in my hazel eyes gave me away. I tidied up my room and bathroom, making sure everything was in order before my mom could get a chance to notice the mess. She had a way of spotting even the smallest detail I overlooked.

Downstairs, the kitchen was buzzing with activity. My brothers—Colton, Troy, and Max—were devouring breakfast like it was their last meal. Colton, the oldest, was already dressed in his letterman jacket, his dark hair tousled in that effortlessly cool way he always managed. Troy, the middle brother, was busy piling pancakes onto his plate, his focus on the food unwavering. Max, the youngest, was laughing at something Hazel had said, his eyes crinkling with amusement.