"Are you sure you'll be ok by yourself, sweetheart?" my mothers voice filled with worry.
"Mom. I'm 18 I think I can handle a few hours by myself. Plus, you and dad deserve a night to yourself." I smiled at her. Because she was my height I wasn't forced to strain my neck to speak to her unlike with my father.
I heard a husky cheer come from the living room and I ran to see what the commotion was
"Tyler Jenkins scoring a 9.2, declaring him the 2012 bull riding champion!" the announcer explained through the intercom on the TV. I face palmed and shook my head
"Looks like little miss Rylan is cleaning out Rocky's pen for the next month!" my dad chuckled then ruffled my hair "tough luck kiddo! Don't forget! The only way you can get into the pen without a fight is if you feed him a carrot." he explained walking up to my mom and gently kissing her, obviously forgetting the fact I was in the room. "EWWWW! Guys! Get a room!" I screeched then laughed.
My dad smirked and brought my mom and himself closer to me "hm, Stacy, I think she enjoys it." he teased kissing her once more to my disgust.
"GO! You're going to be late!" I pushed them to the door jokingly. My mom turned to me and wrapped me in a hug before whispering in my ear softly "we need to talk when I get home" I pulled away and nodded while searching her eyes for any sign of a hint. To my dismay all I found were eyes drowning in sorrow, sympathy, and maybe even apologies. I furrowed my eyebrows in a confused manner but decided to shrug it off then turned to my father and smiled "use protection! I would like to stay an only child!" I pointed my finger at him in warning. He merely laughed and pulled me into a tight hug. "I love you my little RyPan Strawberry!" he whispered sweetly into my ear. RyPan Strawberry had been the nickname that seemed to stick since I was 3 years of age. My strawberry red hair defining the nickname perfectly. I definitely had my mothers red hair. I had most of my mothers looks except for my eyes. My eyes were a sparkling green as my moms were a dull hazel. It was odd because my father had a light blue tent to his smaller eyes. Again, my eyes didn't match either of my parents. My mother with elegant average size eyes with short eyelashes and my father with smaller eyes and short eyelashes. I happened to have big bulgy eyes and, as everyone complimented, long marvelous eyelashes. Although the resemblance didn't match up I pushed those thoughts away, remembering the other features that resembled my mother. Like her my hands and feet were rather small and our height of 5'2" matching perfectly.
I smiled and waved to my lovestruck parents as they pulled out of the driveway.
"YES! HOUSE TO MYSELF!" I yelled to the empty house, causing my yorkshire terrier, Rascal, to let out a startled bark and my orange tabby, Kitty, to stretch from her curled up position and glare at me. I walked up to kitty and gently stroked her "oh shush! You've been sleeping all day! Get up and do something for a change!" I chuckled and turned to Rascal who was sitting at my feet wagging his baby tail. Smiling, I picked him up and cradled him, scratching his stomach. He squirmed and jumped down startling Kitty and making her hiss. I laughed and shook my head as I plopped on the couch and finished watching the 2012 Dickson Rodeo. I prayed one day I would be able to afford a racing horse or even manage to train Trickster, my 16 hand, white stallion, to compete with the professional racing horses. I smiled at the thought and closed my eyes to imagine the scene. Trickster galloping around the dirt race track as I proudly held up the gold trophy, grinning from ear to ear. "Ladies and gentlemen! Introducing Rylan Peters and her prize stallion Trickster! This years racing champion!" the announcer echoed through the intercom. My dream faded as I fell into a dreamless sleep.
What felt like 5 minutes later, I was woken up by the sound of the home phone ringing furiously. I glanced at the clock sleepily. 12 am already? Last time I remembered, it was 8 pm. I must've fallen asleep. The ringing brought me out of my train of thought as I yawned and dragged my feet to answer the phone, too tired to look at the caller ID.
"hello?" I replied groggily. I heard baby cries and yelling in the background.
"is this Rylan Marie Peters? Daughter of Stacy and Jimmy Peters?" the lady had a hint of sympathy in her voice.
I gulped and took a deep breath. Sympathy was never a good sign "yes? Is something wrong?" I croaked nervously. There was a short silence from the lady as I listened to the screams in the background. "I'm afraid I have bad news dear" she paused and sighed "your parents were killed in a head on collision. The driver had consumed too much alcoholic beverages and crashed into the car, killing them instantly. I'm sorry sweetheart. There are a few officers on their way to pick you up and discuss your living arrangements." I gasped and slammed the phone down on the receiver, grabbing my cell phone and immediately calling my mother, refusing to believe the news I had received. Much to my surprise there was no answer. I hung up, deciding to call my father as a back up. Again, no answer. Just as I decided that this was all a dream I heard a knock at the door "Rylan. We're here to talk to you. Please answer." I heard the deep voice from behind the door. Still shocked, I opened the door and stared at the cops worried expressions in front of me blankly. One stepped forward just as everything went black.
