True Story [Complete]

Chapter 1

*Sorry if this opening sounds lame cuz I don't really know how to open a story but please... keep reading*

I awake to pounding. Loud, very loud pounding on my door from whom I assume is my 5th grade brother telling me to make him breakfast. "Reneee!!!" His voice muffled as he yells through the door. "The toaster is not working! Can you heat my bread over the pan?!"

I rub my face to wake myself up and pull my face out of The Lightning Thief (which I am rereading for like the 100th time) and run my hand through my hair as I get out of bed and stumble to open the door. "Why can't you do it yourself?..." I groan with sleepy eyes.

"Because! Mom won't let me," he says as he hovers over me like a sequioa tree.

I groan again and walk out of my room with my back curved as if I were the female version of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, (which I have a lot in common with since all I ever do is get whatever my "masters" want and ring a bell to tell them that everything is ready). Seriously though, I am as if my parents trained me to be their nanny rather than be their big sister. Murphy is old enough (and big enough) to be frying whatever the hell he wants.

Once I arrive in the kitchen, I pull out a pan and set it on the stove, adjusting the dial to 6, or medium (just to be safe). I then take out a bag of bread from the pantry and set it on the side. Right when the pan felt warm, I place a slice on it and let it sit.

As I wait, I take out the orange juice Dad loves so much and the jellies and peanut butter. Then I take out some plates, bowls, forks, and napkins. Basically, I set up the table.

"Where's the milk?" I look up after arranging the eating thingys on the table, to see Mason scratching his head with sleepy eyes.

Rolling my eyes, I go back into the kitchen, open the stupid fridge (that never seems to run out of food to feed these people) and pull out the milk, go back to the dining room, and set it near Mason's usual seat. I then look up at him again and cross my arms. "Happy?"

Mason yawns and rubs his stomach, lifting up his shirt (and I hold back the urge to tell him not to do that in front of other girls because there's nothing there that impresses). Finally, he smiles and says thank you and sits down.

He pours himself cereal (thank God) and takes a bite and takes a sniff. "Wait..." he sniffs again, "is something burning?"

Shit.

My eyes widen and I'm running into the kitchen. Smoke swallows me as I enter the place. I look up at the ceiling and I realize that I had forgotten to update the smoke detector the other day. Crap. I take out the fire extinguisher from a bottom cupboard a spray it around like crazy.

When the smoke clears up I peer at the pan. Inside it is a huge inedible black block. I sigh, put the extinguisher away, turn off the stove, pick up the pan and scrape what was supposed to be toasted bread not burnt.

"Hey is the toast ready yet?" Murphy asks sticking his head out into the kitchen.

*I hope this wasn't too short and you'll keep reading. And no this usually doesn't happen at my house but I do make breakfast for my ungrateful brothers*

PS. I love you bros 😜