CODED

chapter three

Chapter three

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

An incessant and very annoying buzzing noise sounded right next to Abby's ear, making her swat at the space between her face and the never ceasing alarm clock. "Shut up," she groaned, squashing her face in the middle of her pillow to block out the clamor. "I'm trying to sleep." She usually would've stopped the noise by now, but the clock was out of her reach and she was too tired to get out of bed, turn off the buzz, and snuggle back into the covers.

"If I say please, will it change anything," she muttered to the unintelligible clock, her voice muffled from being squished into her sweat smelling pillow. She was answered by another round of high-pitched buzzes. Annoyed and grunting, Abby grumpily threw off the three layers of blankets and sheets that she was buried under and lumbered drowsily over to the shelf where the infernal device was placed. She slammed her closed fist down on the Mickey Mouse alarm clock, relief and silence reaching her ears as the aggravating noise ceased.

"Finally," she mumbled, stifling a yawn as she extended her arms in an angled position so she could stretch them out from the rough night she had. Glancing out the window as she threw a huge stuffed animal from the ground onto her messy, slept-in bed, she saw below from her second-story view the grungy white mailbox that belonged to their house. The red flag was down and it was overstuffed with white envelopes which were probably all filled with bills and overdue taxes.

Abby sighed. "I guess I'll have to ask mom to pay bills today." She rubbed her face absentmindedly, not caring that she brushed a bruise that she had received on her cheek the previous day due to a fight at school. It had been the other boy's fault, Abby kept telling herself, trying not to feel guilty that she had given her opponent a black eye and a bloody, busted lip. He was the one who had called her a fatherless orphan. "I'm not an orphan," she sighed, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep the sleepiness away. "I have mom and Riley." She grimaced at the thought. "Mom... Not much of a mom anyways."

Her attention was suddenly drawn away from the window a certain commotion and noise that was coming from downstairs below her, probably in the kitchen. "Riley's already up?" She lifted her dark, delicate eyebrows slightly and pursed her lips together. "Never known him to be up early on a Saturday." She suddenly smiled, crossing her arms across her chest as she shivered from the air conditioning that had just started to come on. "Unless his favorite t.v. show is on. That's only when."

She lumbered down the stairs and glided her hands down the bannister, lifting her fingers elegantly, and feeling ridiculous like she was some sort of gorgeous, naïve Disney princess. On her way down, she passed a small pile of dirty, once white socks, old shirts that smelled stale and sweaty, and green, grass-stained jeans that belonged to Riley who was too lazy to carry them just a few yards into the laundry basket. She kicked them with the side of her foot and watched the bundle of balled up and bacteria-filled, germ-infested pieces of clothing fall to the bottom. "Mount Socks-more has been demolished!" She exclaimed, a faint trace of a smile creeping across her face.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she poked her head around the corner where the living room was and heard the t.v. going on in the background. Sure enough, just as she had predicted, Riley was sitting on the couch, a banana wedged between his fingers and his mouth agape, staring straight ahead. He was watching his favorite show that he had recently discovered one late night. Ever since that fateful day, Abby could never draw him or his attention away when he was watching it. Unless it was time to eat. Or a snack. Or sleeping.

"You up this early, Riley," Abby asked, making her way into the living room and throwing herself down next to him on the bouncy, springy, food and drink stained couch.