I do apologize ahead of time for the grammar errors. Will edit soon.
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Soft specks of sunlight squeezed through my eyelids, awaking me from my restless dreams. I yawned loudly before opening my eyes and capturing the usual tidy form my room was always in.
The thin velvet drapes covering my wall-length windows hung open, a black oak bureau sat near the only exit with numerous amount of makeup containers covering it, meanwhile my white Pomeranian slept quietly in the corner. I kicked off the thin white layer of sheets covering me and stretched, before setting my sock less feet on the white marbled floor.
I rubbed my eyes before taking a quick glance at my Jimmy Choo alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. 6:30 A.M it read. After mentally insulting myself for awaking up this early on a Saturday morning, I grabbed my universal remote control, slid my finger across the touch sensitive screen, and watched as my plasma TV slowly emerged from a hidden compartment inside my wall.
With another finger touch upon my universal remote's screen, the TV flickered to life and projected news anchor Margret Baker on the Early morning news bantering about President Obama's recent visit to England. Not playing much attention to the important information, I preoccupied myself by analyzing Margret's wrinkles. She really needed to see Dr. Sparks, that man could work miracles.
I was critiquing Margret's outfit when her new story pulled me out of my diversion and seized my attention.
"Now for a change of news, life just got harder for Wright & Clark Enterprise's Chairman, Darren Wright," Margret began.
My heart stopped beating, beads of sweat began to emerge on my face, and my sweaty palms began to shake. Darren Wright was Ethan's dad. This story was about Ethan. The boy that constantly haunted my dreams last night.
I braced myself for the atrocious images of Ethan in a body bag, but I was accommodated with: "His son, Ethan Wright, is in a medical induced coma. Police found him in a Greenwich Village Condo a few hours ago, unconscious. Cause of accident is uncertain, but police are investigating."
Oh no, I thought, they'll find out about the drugs then obtain a warrant for my and Logan's arrest on the account of contributing to Ethan's accident.
Hyperventilating from the horrid situation I was involved in, I flinched and nearly choked when my cell-phone rang.
I staggered towards my dresser, pushed aside a few bottles of foundation, and grabbed my pink blackberry.
Without taking a glance at the screen, I answered, "Hel-lo?" My voice coming in hitches due to the hyperventilating accident I immersed moments ago.
"We have a problem," a familiar voice replied.
"Logan?" I replied, voice fully recovered.
"No, Johnny Depp," he replied sarcastically.
On the verge of insulting him, Logan spoke again.
"Ethan's alive."
"I know, what are we going to do?" I asked. Logan always had a plan, he knew how to dispose of any obstacle in his way.
"We. No sweetie, do not pin this on me. After all, you were the one who handed him the drugs," Logan accused. If he had had been in this room, I would have seen evil shine in his blue eyes as he inculpated me.
"This is not all my fault!" I hissed, not wanting to shout and awake the rest of my family.
"Well then, we have a problem," Logan bickered back.
YOU ARE READING
Monsters of Manhattan
Novela JuvenilPeople aren't called monsters because they paint rainbows and snowflakes. No, they're called monsters because they have a limitless ambition to achieve what they want and maintain what they have, and in Manhattan, what you want and what you have mig...
