Deceit

Enough

It was getting late, with the brim of the sky seen through the trees lit a fading purple and orange into a deep blue. The air was bitter and dry as it swept roughly through the thin, white branches. It had been a day like any other. A day spent with my siblings. Constant arguments and shouting were the only things we seemed to be able to do together. I prefered to step away and get lost in my thoughts upstairs. Yet everyday, somehow the argument would be brought up to my room, through my closed door, and swallow me into the angered fight.

My brothers always ticked me off about how stupid they could get. We never did get along but if found in the rare occurrence, my brothers would leave me out of it. Zachary was 18 years old, making him the oldest. He was 6' 4" with thin white hair that feathered just over the very top his pale forehead, dark eyebrows, and lively dark eyes. He always wore his dark blue converse jacket our parents supposedly gave him before they died. He wore thick black boots along with faded black jeans. He tended to be the one my other 2 siblings looked up to yet I never understood why they follow along with the idiocy he radiates.

Logan was the second oldest, being 17 years old. He was 6' 2" with dark hair that feathered into white an inch away from his scalp. He constantly wore a backpack that was only removed when he slept. Yet even then he kept it nearby for some unknown reason. He wore the same pants as Zachary, black converse, and a blue, short-sleeved under armour shirt.

I was the second youngest. Asher Ryles. 6 feet tall, dark eyes, black hair, a heavy black jacket over my black T-shirt, dark sweat pants, and black Jordans. Nothing too exciting yet it was all I needed. I never got to know my parents. They were with me for about a year, though they tended mostly to my other siblings. I have no memory of what they looked like, sounded like, or anything. I suppose it's better that way. Clueless than depressed by death. Zachary claims it was awful when they died though death doesn't bother me. Just leave the scene or everyone accuses you.

And the 15 year old, 5' 8'' Ethan with his bright blue eyes came last. He was the youngest but still favored and cared for more than me. He always wore a thin, plaid jacket with a white undershirt beneath along with white-washed jeans, white converse, and somehow has the same, thick, straight, dark hair as me. Of course it ticked me off but there's not much you can do if he won't let you near him to bleach it.

"Asher said he would do that today!" Ethan shouted.

"Bull crap! It's Logan's turn!" I shot back.

"Oh shut up everyone. Asher, get out there and get it over with," Zachary demanded. I scowled at the 3 and sighed angrily while whipping away and storming for the door. Why couldn't they just do it? Taking out the trash and feeding the cat wasn't all that much work. But for any of them, it was so awful for some reason. They didn't like the cat and the people outside in their driveways looked at them. Boo hoo.

I exited into the evening air and let the door close on its own. The gravel driveway before me was never touched by tires. We didn't own a car. The driveway winded through the woods that surrounded our house for a little less than a mile in every direction. If one of us were sent to get food with whatever money we could get, (usually it was me) they'd have to walk about a mile to get to the street which would eventually lead them down to a dollar general or something worn down and murky. The trees around were dead, it being late fall.

It was getting darker by the minute as our black cat rubbed against my pant leg. I nudged it away and walked over to where we stored his canned food. It followed and meowed up at me. I glanced at it to see it stare into my eyes before averting his gaze to the can in my hand. I sighed and dropped to my knees on the old wood of the thin porch which was crumbling off the side of the house.