Robots Plus Your Backyard | Transformers

| Prologue |

A/N; Edited. :)
11/21/18

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Casey

Up and roaming about my dim room, I take a deep breath. Angry about having to wake up at the crack of dawn for the past five months, just to get ready, and make breakfast for Cash and Ida or, just, mom.

All because I'm the only one who can, and knows how to cook. I headed towards the kitchen, which could almost be considered a kitchenette.

Cash, works all day, mom works all day, I go to school as a Junior. Whoopie. Making a few slices of toast while butter-ing them up, I begin making omelettes, just plain omelettes with cheese and diced bacon bits.

And that was breakfast, big brother Cash goes to work at the bookstore, in the evening he works at a corner gas station. Mom goes to her office job all day. Who also drops me off before she makes her way to work.

After I was done making breakfast for the two, I watch as Cash scarfs down his food like no tomorrow, while mom ate every last bite quickly but polielty. I only take a few bites myself, not feeling too hungry at the moment.

Giving the rest of my omelette to Cash, I collect the dishes. That being the plates, silverware, cutting board, and pans. In the process of filling the sink with water and soap, mom yells from her room,

"Casey! Get ready! You have thirty minutes! Or  I'll leave you to walk!"

Cash snickered to himself on the couch in response as he worked on a sudoku booklet. Of course she's only joking though, today she's in an alright mood. Dishes washed, rinsed, and drying in the rack, I then head for the shower.

-

Done washing hair and body, I dry myself thoroughly for a minute or two. Out of the shower, I push the shower curtain to one side, hanging the maroon towel up on the shower rack, whilst huffing loudly to myself.

Putting on some plain undergarments and clothes. Those being navy blue skinny jeans, and a black t-shirt with a yellow print and wording on the back, with sleeves reaching my scarred elbows. Picking up my pajamas off the floor, I fold them neatly.

Exiting the bathroom, a vapor of light steam spewed out along with me. Walking into my room just a yard across, I throw my folded PJ's consisting of loose joggers and an over sized t-shirt on the bed to rewear tonight. I sat down beside the set while grabbing and slipping on black socks I left on my pillow before jumping in the shower.

Slipping on my black street shoes, at the same time getting a hold of my -was once Cash's- leather brown A2 bomber jacket. I grab my worn maroon bookbag, stuffing my jacket in as I headed out the door behind Cash.

Cash called shot gun as he hopped in the passenger seat. I hop in the backseat deciding not to fight over the front seat like most siblings would. Mom started the car, driving to the bookstore dropping off Cash, she then began our short journey to Hell.

It was a good ten or fifthteen minute drive, it was silent between Mom and I as she dropped me off. It's always just one sided conversation from me, or from her. The conversation went awkwardly as expected;

"Thank you for breakfast. See you after school."

"Welcome. See you."

And that was it.

Slouching, I trudge into the building filled with incoherent gossip. With hair brushed out alrightly and still wet, making the back of my shirt damp sticking to my back. That annoyed me to a point. But it's just another day full of tedious long hours of writing, listening, and talking to random people. Great.