Merboy

Chapter 1

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known -Carl Sagan

Seven years later...

I slammed the door shut behind me as I entered the house, not bothering to spout any cheesy greeting to announce my presence.

I'm sure you're familiar with them; the television famous "Mom, I'm home!" Or the obnoxiously cheerful, "Hey everybody!"

Not only were they exceedingly lame, but they were also wasted words, as my parents were never home. Bermuda was far more life-fulfilling than raising their kids apparently. I didn't live alone however, I shared the house with my sister Erin, who was so self-absorbed I might as well be invisible, unless she wanted something, like now.

"Hey Frizz-Ball, have you seen my car keys?" said sister demanded, strutting through the kitchen like she owned the place.

She was clad in an expensive pink sweat-suite, blond hair billowing behind her like an over-perfumed mane. I yanked my sweater sleeve over my nose so I wouldn't gag at the overpowering scent.

Didn't anyone ever teach her that less is more?

While I was busy attempting not to pass out from perfume intoxication, Erin began viciously ripping open drawers and cabinets, a frown marring her pretty face as each time she came up key-less.

"Okay seriously?" she snapped, skirting around me to check inside the microwave-yes, the microwave-before whirling on me expectantly.

"Helloooo?" she hissed, waving her hand in my face, "Earth to Kerrie-land. I'm pretty sure I asked you a question like five seconds ago. How about answering it this century? And you should really do something about that hair of yours, it's repulsive."

She wrinkled her nose, eyeing my tangled, wavy locks pointedly before crossing her arms.

I rolled my eyes.

I'd actually seen her keys in the cabinet under the sink the night before, (no telling how they got there)but of course I wasn't going to tell her that.

That would be like giving a murderer a chainsaw.

Ignoring her comment about my hair, I tilted my head in feigned innocence.

"Did you check your pants yet?" I drawled mock-helpfully, " I hear a lot of things get in there."

She didn't deny the insinuation of my words, instead turning to face me with raised brows.

"Yeah, whatever virgin." she sniffed, flinging open the pantry. Three packets of instant noodles fell out, not that she bothered to pick them up. "Try insulting me again when you actually land a date."

I scoffed.

"Yeah, because saving myself for someone who actually cares is such a travesty." I countered as I bounded up the stairs to my room. I was so over this. "We can finish this conversation when you've gotten all your shots."

I locked the door behind me in case she decided to initiate a surprise attack-it's happened before (don't ask)-then flopped down on my un-made bed, backpack and all.

Erin and I had been like this for as long as I could remember.

I'm pretty sure it had something to do with Dad marrying my mom practically a week after hers died, not that I even had anything to do with that. My mom is black, so not only did we act like total strangers most of the time, but we didn't even look related. We were as different as heaven and hell (her being hell of course). And it didn't help our relationship much that she believed she was the epitome of perfection. Sure she's pretty, I'm willing to admit that, but on the inside she was as rotten as they come.