Inheritance

Chapter 8

I have the heater on full blast all the way home, but the stupid chill keeps clinging to me. Never mind skin deep, it feels like my bone marrow is freezing. I reluctantly get out of the toasty car and basically run up the steps to the front door. No music or delicious smells beckon me this time, nothing but the muffled sound of one of our tv-shows. I turn the handle and walk in, keeping an ear out for any noises that might clue me in as to where my parents might be.

I stroll pass the kitchen, just to check if they maybe fell asleep at the counter again. Their bedroom door is wide open, I can see one of Mom's tactical vests hanging haphazardly out of her cupboard. Their bed is made up with tight corners. A chuckle escapes me, Dad always says after years in the forces it sticks with you.

Maybe they went out to buy something to eat, Dad probably doesn't want to cook and nobody wants mom to try. I just hope they get something yummy and unhealthy, I am turning seventeen tomorrow, bunny food is expressly forbidden. I just hope my parents know it.

I hop up to my room, my eyes quickly adjusting to the rapidly darkening house. I plop down on my bed. Now's the question... Do I take a shower, read or... Wait where's my phone? I try to think through my day, trying to figure out where I might have left it, but I can't remember using it at all. I probably dropped it when I knocked over the bracelets, or maybe it fell out of my jacket pocket while I was crouching. Either way, it's probably (in other words hopefully) back at Sofia's.

I quickly strip down, happy with my deduction and mightily pissed off at the cold threatening to crystallise my insides. Once I hang my towel over the shower wall and climb in, I turn the hinge-thingy-ma-whatsit all the way to the red dot. Praying that mom won't want to use the warm water tonight. The steam starts rising all around me, slowly loosening my clenched muscles and melting my icy blood, allowing it to flow freely and, most importantly, warmly again.

I stay in the shower, just letting the spray drench me from head to toe. My skin starts to look like that time I accidently fell asleep in the sun in grade 4 when I was trying to tan. I wanted so badly to be any other colour than the pale porcelain I was born with. Safe to say, I learned my lesson about being careful what I wished for. Weeks later I still couldn't hug anyone without tearing up.

I lose myself in memories. All my birthdays so far. Last year was fairly simple, Ami and I ate chocolate and popcorn while binging one of our series. The year before that it fell on a test day, so I was writing biology on the 15th anniversary of my biological existence. Come to think of it, most of my birthdays were spent writing tests. Basically, every one of them, all the way back to preschool. No wonder I am a geek. My birthdays before that is hazy. Nothing specific comes forward when I try and remember them. All I know is that I nearly burned off all my hair when I turned three and that there was a little fair-haired boy that saved me from the flames that seemed to amuse me...

Ice cold drops pelting my skin interrupt my thoughts. I quickly dry off and get out of the shower. After thoroughly pampering myself with creams and oils, and goodness knows wat some of the other things are, I quickly toe my way to my cupboard, not wanting my feel to fall off from frostbite. I put on my snuggest, fluffiest and most comfortable pj's and decide to go see if my parents are home yet.

The icy feeling is quickly making its way up my spine, but, thankfully, the fluffy contraption I am wearing keeps away the worst of it. The bottom floor of the house is still a ghost town, so I walk into the kitchen searching for something yummy to drink. There on the counter lies my phone. I practically facepalm while I move closer. There is a note under it. The paper's corners almost looking like wings.

Dearest Katei,

We're horrible, we know. There are some leftovers from last night in the fridge and you have our permission to finish the ice cream and hot chocolate. You're probably wondering what's up and why we asked you to be home tonight, so we could all talk if we weren't even going to be here. We promise that its wasn't just a farce. We really need to talk, but something huge came up at work and they called in Code Magenta. We aren't sure whether we'll be back before you head off to school, so Happy Birthday! See we keep our promises.

Don't worry about us and remember to set your alarm for tomorrow. We promise we'll make up for the missed breakfast.

Forever guarding you in our hearts.

Mom and Dad

I slowly swallow the lump that formed in my throat. Code Magenta, all hands on deck, no exceptions. It's never been called in from what I can remember, but what I do know, is that it means big trouble. A small smile plays on my lips as I reread it. I am afraid about what might be happening, but I'm not worried about them. They're badasses. The line about their promise makes my smile stretch a bit. Ever since I can remember my parents have vowed to always be the first ones to congratulate me on my birthday. I am happy to see they haven't forgotten it. The last line draws a chuckle from me though. Mom and Dad have never ever ended anything they gave me with "love" or "sincerely" or whatever else people usually sign off with. It's always been "Forever guarding you in our hearts." It's awesome and it makes me feel special.

I neatly fold up the note and try to power up my phone. "No... C'mon... I didn't even use you today! How can you be flat?" I sigh, holding my useless phone tightly as I skip up the stairs. I quickly connect my phone to the charger and walk over to my shelves. My eyes scan over countless authors and titles while my phone starts to frantically ping. I decide on an oldie and pick up my phone as I fall onto my bed. 17 messages from Ami demanding to know why I am not answering, 5 from Chris begging me to answer Ami before she goes homicidal, and one from Sofia asking if I arrived home. I quickly let Sofia know that I am safe and sound. Ami gets an outline of my day and a goodnight while I send Chris a corny joke about blonde murderers and a thumbs up. I start to read and before I know it I am back in dream world.