Up in Flames

Chapter One

Yay! The official start of my first story, Up in Flames. If you are reading this far, know that I'm very grateful. <3Here we go!!! Enjoy! 

XOXO

Chapter one

Great things are expected of me. I go to an expensive private K-12 school where the standards are higher. If I went to any normal school, I would be considered super smart. But because I go to this specific school I’m average. And I work my butt off just to get by. It’s a super uptight school that has very strict rules that I’m actually thankful for. The school is religion based, so there are no issues like drug handling and girl-boy relationships are forbidden (but honestly, no one cares about that last rule so its not enforced well). And if there are any issues, the staff is quick to suspend or expel, so everyone stays in line. Well almost everyone.

School is starting tomorrow and I’m super nervous. Elementary and middle school at our school is very laid back. So much so that there aren’t even finals and it doesn’t matter if you fail any of those years, so high school is huge step forward. Ninth grade had gone by so quickly and let me just say one thing: It was awful. How can you expect a kid who never understood the concept of midterms and switching classes to make it through the first year of high school alive?

Anyway let’s not dwell on the past. Thankfully I was able to adapt by the last marking period and ended the school year with an honor roll. Not good enough for my parents.

 Today is the last day of summer vacation before school starts and I can’t get this feeling of anxiety out. One way I use to forget things that are stressing me out is to listen to music. I also like to make my own mixes and lyrics sometimes. Music has helped me through so many things, what with losing all my friends by the end of eighth grade. Music inspires and it was able to replace that empty feeling that was left inside me by my ‘friends’.

I was in the middle of writing the next line of my song when I heard someone yell, “Kara!” from the bottom of the stairs. A scream like that should make a normal person jump. I’m pretty much used to it. “Get down here!” they yell in an all too familiar voice. I closed my notebook and paused the music on may laptop, jumped off my bed, and headed down the stairs.

“What did I do wrong today?” I asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” my dad yelled. “What are you doing locked up in your room all day? I specifically told you to stop locking yourself up there,” he says, his voice filled rage. “Were you looking up inappropriate images on the internet again? ‘Cuz if you were- “

I cut him off, “Wait, wait. Hold up. Again? What do you mean again? I’d never- I’ve never done that! Who told you I did? Oh wait, that’s right. No one! You just believe whatever you want!” I couldn’t believe him. My own father thinks I’m a slut.

“That’s not the point!” he yells back at me. “What-were-you-doing?” he asks slowly, like I’m too stupid to comprehend.

“Nothing! I was just finishing the lyrics to my new song,” I say trying to calm myself. I really didn’t want it to be one of those days. They were coming too often.

“Why do you insist on listening that garbage?” he asks obviously pissed. Because I love it, got a problem? I thought. Of course I wouldn’t say that. No matter how mad he made me I couldn’t.

Why does he have to be like this to me? My dad is a really nice guy. He’s not abusive or anything. He just has a short temper. But when he gets really angry it’s like hell. And that is how I would describe my lifein this house: Hell.