Many Lights at the End

Untitled Part 1

Chapter 1

As my eyes unfasten from my slumber into the bright 8 o'clock sunlight, I have to blink a few times. After a nice long yawn, I immediately get the robust whiff of my older brother, Levi: Axe Body Spray and bananas. His bedroom is right across the hall from mine. I won't have to deal with his stench much longer, he is a junior in high school, so he will be gone before I know it.

Of course, the smell only gets worse when it mixes with my sister's perfume. Her name is Dixie, she and Levi are twins. The two look exactly alike, almost identical, except that they are different genders.They are gorgeous with their silver eyes and blond, curly, and perfectly managed hair.

My younger brother, Jasper, has that same supermodel look. Even though he is only six years old, there is that look of future success in his eyes. I wish I could describe myself in the same way.

I roll out of bed, and spit out my retainer. I meander into the bathroom, and the scent doubled in strength. Both Levi and Dixie are fighting over what music they want to play in the bathroom as they brush their teeth and comb their hair. They kind of remind me of geese, constantly squawking back at one another. However, I am used to it by now, I have been their sister for fifteen years.

"Come on, Levi! We always listen to my music on Wednesdays," Dixie glares at him with a fire in her eyes. She is not going to let him win the argument, not today.

"That's why we've got to change it up," Levi says trifling, looking down with his eyes, which sat on a 6 foot and 1 inch throne.

That is something that he gets from my dad, height. Of course, I have inherited the rest of his traits: Olive skin and orange eyes that can stare into your soul and singe right through you, like burning embers.

I run my fingers through my charcoal burned hair. It is wavy, but billows out in places awkwardly. I slick it back into a ponytail, because that is the only way that I can manage it. It would make my life ten times easier if it were shorter, but I choose to believe that cutting your hair gives you some tough luck.

I pick up my toothbrush, and squeeze the tube of toothpaste with all of the force in my body. None came out, and I toss it into its trash can grave. It buries itself in the surrounding tissues and q-tips.

My closet is full is full of t-shirts, I suppose you could say that I am a fiend. My sister is a person who enjoys the fashionable life, and tries to make that a similarity between us, but it really isn't. I'm more of a casual, blend into the crowd type of person, and that is the way I like it.

I dress myself, then grab my purple sneakers. It is my least favorite part of the morning, trying to jam my foot into the hole at the top, then relacing them. I flop back on my bed, taking a deep sigh. I allow every bone in my back to pop and every muscle to expand to its furthest.

I scamper down the stairs, with all three of my siblings on my tail. 99% of the time, we do not have the time to sit down at the table and eat as a family. Our usual breakfast is an Eggo with jelly. After this, we slip out of the door, and into the car.

My family owns a green mini van. It is a bit beat up, but we make good use of it. My mom looks back at me in the rear-view mirror with her smile that goes from California to Maine. It is her worst habit. Behind her pearly white teeth, she holds a jungle of lies. Each growing larger and larger, starting as a single vine, then expanding uncontrollably. She hasn't told the truth to anyone, not even the courtesy of telling me and my siblings.

My Dad was put in a mental facility when I was nine or so. He always used to say that he could remember his past, and he always had these insane seizures as a result. Doctors worried that he would turn violet, so they sent him to a facility in Santa Clara. The facility is about 20 minutes away from where we live, San Jose, California. We used to visit him every Sunday, but we don't ever see him anymore. Apparently, my mom and dad had a falling out during one of his episodes, but we don't usually like to speak about it.