Chapter 1. Just like every other morning

185 1 2
                                    

My name is Riley Rasmussen and my morning begain like every other morning.

When i woke up  i hit the snooze button on my alarm clock and was getting out of bed when my mom yelled up to me “Riley time to get up you don’t want to miss the bus on your first day of high school.” I called back to my mom, “Kay mom I’m up and il be down in one second." I got up and looked in the mirror and i saw myself. It looked like i grew 2 inches because now i  am about 6 feet tall with light brown hair half way down my neck. My life at school is a pain in the ass. Last year i did alot of sports because  my school is a japanese wonna be school so it does baseball, soccor, and  it even has a Olympic class that trains kids to be in the Olympics. During the summer i signed up to be on the soccor team and the swordsmanship team. Right now  I am captain of the slashers. Thats the name of our swordsmanship group at my school. So during the summer i had to get up at 6:00 am, go to soccer practice. We have a really good coach in socceer Mr. Nixon. I'm the goalie for our team so yeah most practicies Mr. Nixon put me and goal and had the rest of the team shoot as hard as they could at me. After that i would go to the weight room for a couple of hours and work out. After that i would go home take a nap get back up and go to practice for the swordsmenship team. So I got up, got dressed in some blue jeans and a blank black shirt and my favorite black converse. Then i picked up my bracelet. The braclet was a gift from my father, it was plain silver with a red gem in the middle.  So i went down stairs and  saw that my mom had made me breakfest. There was a note by my breakfast it said. “Riley i’m sorry that i could only wake you up but i had to catch my taxi to go to the airport. You see i'm going to my conference in Florida i won’t be back till next week, be good. Love you. From mom.” So i ate breakfast, got my stuff and went to wait for the bus.

The Devil hates my soulWhere stories live. Discover now