The boy who broke me

1.

I wake up before the sun bas risen, my body heavy from my restless sleep. Memories of tossing and turning in the suffocating sheets fill my mind.I haven't slept through an entire night since the beginning of the year, and we're two months in already.

At first I thought I couldn't sleep because I was just dreading school starting again. High school always seems to be the source of my discomfort. But now ? Now I think it's just the silence. I haven't had a proper conversation with someone my age in at least six months, I used to think that talking to my twin brother Ryan was the same thing, but he tries to avoid me most days.

Him and I dont really have a great relationship. His social status can't really afford for him to acknowledge that we're related. I have mom, but she isn't 17 so she doesn't completely get it. I sometimes wander if even someone who is 17 would understand me.

With sunrise still a few hours away I take out my journal and start on a poem. Poetry usually takes the edge off of things for at least a little while. Words have always been my way of escaping into lives that I could only ever dream of experiencing.

I've always just sunken into the pages so easily, they've become my second home. Ryan says that if I actually made a friend he'd stop teasing me about it, but we both know he only said that because he knows that its impossible for me to climb out of my shell. I'll always be to scared. I'll always be the girl nobody wants anything to do with.

Once I finish writing, i walk over to the window and let the cool air blow over my face and i gaze out at the forest that borders the end of our garden. The trees sway from side to side, I imagine them dancing, the wind being their music.

Eventually I doze off on the window ledge and wake up to the sound of my moms knocking on my bedroom door.
"Rylin ? Honey, are you up ?" Her muffled voice asks through the door.
"Yeah, I'll be down in a sec." I say

The only answer I get is the sound of her feet hitting the wooden floors that lead into the kitchen. I get dressed and take a deep breath. Its just another day, I'll be okay.

As I head down into the kitchen I walk straight into Ryan as he saunters out of the bathroom with nothing more than a towel around his waist. His hair hangs in face so i cant see his eyes when he looks at me.

"You forget where your pants are?" I ask sarcastically
"Nah, i was actually planning on leavin' the house like this." He counters with double my sarcasm.
"Sure the girls would love that." I say and walk off before he can say anything more.
•••
As I walk into the kitchen the smell of oats hits me, I pull a face that im sure represents utter sorrow. Its Ryan's fault that we no longer get pancakes or fruit. He's always moaning about wanting to be healthier.

"Morning sweetie."
"Morning." I groan
"Ryan says it's the only thing that keeps him going. With playing rugby in the afternoons and all. Sorry my love." She says it so emphatically. I don't say anything else about it because I know that if she could afford to buy us more than one type of breakfast food, she would.

Ever since dad died in the plane crash last year, our family has been running tight on money. The money our dad earned as a pilot had always been enough to cover all our needs. He's thorough financial planning is the only reason we still get to live in our house.

I'd barely sat down at the kitchen counter when mom yelled her goodbyes from the front door.

Her job as a small town Doctor doesn't pay well and it has horrible hours. But mom is making do with what we have. We all are.
•••
One of the only things I look forward to in school is Poetry class. As I walk in, our teacher Mrs. Parker greats me with a welcoming smile. She's always given me the feeling that she feels sorry for me, I usually take all the smiles I can get, doesn't matter if it's a pitying smile or a genuine one. It's pathetic really, but my dignity has never been my thing.