more than this | grayson dolan (book one)

one

My heavy eyes slowly begin to open, looking around my tiny and unorganized bedroom. A yawn slips past my lips as a throbbing headache pounds against my skull. I shift my body toward my alarm clock, seeing the time of 7:15 am.

"Oh fuck." I groan as I rip the covers away from my warm body.

Of course that piece of shit didn't go off, i've had the same little alarm clock since first grade. I rush into the bathroom across the hall, immediately turning on the water to wash my face. Since warm water isn't a thing in my household, every morning i'm refreshed with ice cold liquid splashing onto my smooth skin.

I take a washcloth and dab it against my face, trying to wipe away my tiredness. Looking at myself in the mirror, I let out the longest sigh possible. My long brown hair is messy and wild. My green eyes reflect how drained I actually am. I'm a hot mess right now, minus the hot.

After brushing my teeth, I make my way back toward my closet sized-room to take out my wardrobe for the day. I decide to go with a tight baby blue t-shirt with light denim jeans and white converse. I rush to comb through my hair, ultimately pulling it into a high ponytail.

I toss my school bag that contains two binders over my shoulder and shut the door behind me. The second I reach the bottom of the stairs, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

The sight in front of me is all too familiar and i'm growing sick of it. My father is passed out on the kitchen floor, a beer bottle is gripped around his hand. His long hair is dirty and his clothes reek of alcohol and cigarettes, the normal scent of my home. I shake my head and walk around him to get to the refrigerator.

The only thing in there is an empty milk carton and some beer bottles. Great. The wall clock reads 7:30 and I let out another sigh. I need to get out of here now in order to make it to school on time. I rush back up the stairs and twist the doorknob to the bedroom next to mine.

"Jake." I call into the dark room. The strong smell of weed stings my nostrils as I walk over toward the bed. My brother is buried under the covers, sound asleep. "Jake, wake the fuck up." I begin to shake his inked body.

"What, Stella?" He groans in annoyance as he turns over in the bed. His voice is unsteady and slow, indicating he's still drunk from last night.

"I need the car keys, i'm late." I beg as I stare down at him. His brown hair is pushed up and his nose ring is glowing through the darkness.

"There's no gas in it." He mutters as he crashes his head back on the pillow.

"What?!" I say in a strong tone. "You didn't fill it up?"

"I have no money." He says with closed eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to school?" I place my hand on my forehead in panic.

"Walk, duh." He mocks me.

"It's eight blocks." I roll my eyes.

"Better start now." He shrugs as he falls back asleep.

I shake my head in aggravation and rush out of his filthy room. I practically run down the stairs, passing my father who is still sleeping on the kitchen floor. The minute I step out of the house, the strong sun blinds my eyes. Luckily it's the end of April so the weather isn't too horrible.

Once again i'm starting my morning irritated and extremely pissed off. You would think my twenty one year old brother would take more responsibility for himself and get a job, but he would never give up his lifestyle of partying and filling his body with toxic substances.

Normal seniors in high school spend their nights studying, watching netflix and maybe even hanging out with friends or family. I do not fit into the category of a "normal" eighteen year old senior. I spend my nights fighting with my deadbeat of a father and taking care of my brother when he comes home so wasted he can't even walk.