Bouquet of Lilies

Chapter 1

"Oh and the last thing i see, you are never coming home, never coming home," I sang along as I wondered around my room. I was in search of a pair of pants to wear out. Where did he put them, I think as I fumble through my closet. Dad was the worst and placing my jeans in the right place. I sigh, I'll have to go all the way downstairs and ask him.

I take the phone off my bed and pause it in the middle of The Ghost of You. It always has to be a good song when I have to stop it, I frown. Tossing It back I run out the door. A handfull of steps and a leap later, I stumble into the livingroom.

The walls were a soft cream color and had thin white curtains drapped over the windows. The plush couch and loveseat were a dark brown and had matching pillows. In the far corner was a recliner with a tall lamp perched by the upper corner for reading. There was a mohagany coffee table in the center with a miniature twin endtable. Another battery powered lamp rested on it. Pictures of scenery and family were sprinkled around in delicatly carved frames.

Dad was absorbed in a book. He was layed back in the recliner, brow furrowed in concentrarion. He wasn't using the lamp at this hour, for the sun had come up quite a bit. "Daddy? Where are my jeans," I ask propping myself on the corner of the wall.

"Hm? Oh...they're still in the dryer honey," his blue eyes never leave his novel. I nod to myself, "okey."

I sprint back the way I came only I don't go upstairs. I swivel down the hall dodging football paddings. "JOSH! Please pick up your crap!!" I can hear him yell back in defiance.

"Make me Ka!"

I snorted, "Just wait. Josh. Just wait."

The washer and dryer awaited me in the corner of the cream wall. The washer rattled as it soaked It's contents. The dryer, however, lay still and silent. I pry open the white door roughly. It creaks in protest as I slam the door into the washer. Everything was coated in yellow light and reeked of fabric softener. I dig a pale hand into the mass and drag out a random pair of jeans. Josh, I think as I look at the brand and size. Way to big and I don't wear American Eagle. I toss it on top of the dryer and keep looking. Josh, my hand goes back in. Josh, one more try. Josh. Josh. Josh.

Damn! How many pairs of jeans does this boy own!?

I had thrown out every pair but two. I let out a sigh and fumble with one. Yes! This was mine! I set it on the hardwood floor behind me and, out of curiousity, slid the other pair out.

Another pair of Josh's. Well then.

I ball up the rest of the jeans and chuck them back in. I slam the creaky door and tuck my pair under my arm.

When I make it to the staircase, someone stood in the way.

"Josh. Move your butt."

He gives me a sly smile then shakes his head. I groan internally, he was spoiling my day and my slightly good mood.

"I don't have time for you," I try to slid past him, but he leans infront of me. "Where ya going sis? I don' see much of ya anymore," he drawled out.

My temper ignites. I do not have the patience for this kid.

"Just move Josh."

He opened his mouth to retort. I take this chance to get past him. Sliding under an arm, I take off up the stairs.