The World at Her Feet

Chapter 3

I woke up to my alarm going off that's placed on my bedside table. I reached out to turn it off when a gust of cold wind gives me a shiver. Turning my body to the other side where the air seemed to have come off, there's the source; the balcony door's widely opened.

Gosh, how could I have been so careless?

Sighing, I got up and stretched before shutting the door close.

That's the sleep I aim to have every single night of my life.

No matter how good that sleep was, I'm still hesitant to leave my room in case I need to face the real world again. Real world meaning my pissed off father and her 'wifenemy' — because half the time Melissa and I are chill then, the other time consists of a lot of annoying banter, eye rolls and silent treatments. If you get my drift — then my drunk brother.

Dad's pretty hard to talk to when he's pissed off. He goes around the place and be a massive ass to any living thing he sees. It's not actually bad, it just started being weird because he gets pissed so often these days. Every single thing pisses him off. I believe it worsened when he started hanging out with his golf friends. He started being stuck up.

Started inviting his amigos over and staying up till midnight with a glass of scotch in their hands as they talk about some stupid stuff. It is disgusting to hear some of dad's new friends talk about how they go around the golf club to scout girls and leave them broken.

To this day, I still haven't had the slightest idea why he's still hanging out with them. It's sickening. The cook and the maid even noticed dad's change of behaviour, heck, even I noticed it and I rarely go home to socialise.

Hold up, I don't remember sleeping on my bed last night. I can clearly remember all the events that occurred in that bar and I could even remember how managed to kick someone's ass, not technically kick but whatever.

Lyndon definitely carried me out of the car because dad wasn't capable of doing that as he's too busy sleeping in the guest bedroom. I'm also pretty sure that Zach's body is now aching due to the fact that Lyndon dragged him out off my car.

It happened a few times before and it was quite funny if you see Lyndon doing it, to be honest.

Glancing on my wall clock, I snickered. In a few minutes, Zach will wake up and will be shouting all around the house until he finds the bloody medicine kit.

I proceeded on doing my morning routine which consists of tying my hair up in messy bun, brushing my teeth, washing my face, putting on a foam mask, putting a moisturiser, combing my nest of a hair before finally changing into a more comfortable set of clothing.

Today's going to be a productive day, I'm letting you lots know.

When I'm content with everything, I decided to go downstairs but not before being startled by Zach's scrunched up face and bloodshot eyes, "Hey, how's your sleep?"

He rolled his eyes before pushing me aside as he tried to open my door, "Don't start right now, my head feels like a ticking bomb."

I scoffed, "Not my problem, Drunkary."

Drunkary because he's almost always drunk and his name's Zachary so, Drunkary. Whatever I'm never going to try to make myself laugh. It's ridiculous.

"Just open your door right now, I need the MedKit," he grumpily muttered before groaning.

I raised my eyebrows, "Sorry to burst your drunk bubble but, I don't drink so. The MedKit isn't going to be in my room."

He groaned again as he kicked my door that made me exclaim, "Bro!"