A Perfect World

Chapter 1

I'm woken by the sound of one of my older brothers my parents, fighting. Most likely Jack, but I wouldn’t be all surprised if it was Matt yelling. He’s far too kind for that though, so maybe I would be. This situation is far from unusual, and it's been getting worse as the two of them have gotten older and been doing more research. They feel like our parents are far too strict and controlling, but Jack shows it much more openly than Matt. Claire, the youngest of the four living Hale siblings, agreed with them, leaving me as the only one without a side, for the most part. Claire took a far different, much more devastating approach to the injustice though. She took off and ran away with the majority of her belongings, besides her clothes. All of it fit easily into her large bag she kept at all times, a trait shared with all four of us. She vanished without mentioning anything to us, to anyone, actually.

We haven’t seen her in months. She disappeared on August 20, 2018, the first day of school. She went to school with us but never came back. It’s now November 1, and we hadn't heard a word about her. Everyone seemed to have forgotten she existed, except for me and Jack, we could never forget her. Even Matt seems to have forgotten, or at least, is trying to forget. He gets just as angry as our parents when we mention her, and being like our parents irritates him even more, so most conversations end with him storming off to blow off steam with another one of his projects. She may have been the youngest, but she was beautiful, smart, and sly as a fox. She still had a black mark when she vanished too. A black mark, white veins, and not a tattoo to be seen on her dark-tan skin.

Jack is a pretty pure soul too, despite what he may say or try to get you to believe. Like Claire, the white stripes on his arms stand out against his dark skin, almost like snow, glittering and glistening in the sun's rays. His mark, a dark spot on the left side of his jaw, remains dark, even to this day. It’s surprising, with the number of dates he goes on. I’d think he’d have found the one already, or at least have run into them somewhere. He’s had his fair share of bad experiences, too. He’s been in two car accidents, one that killed Emory’s little brother and one of his best friends, Jake Jones. The girls, Emory and a friend of hers, were mildly injured, and Matt and Jack were too. Jake died on impact. It wasn’t Jack's fault though, as much as he blames himself. It was that drunk driver’s fault.

Last but not least, Matt. He’s very reserved, though he has been in a few long-term relationships. He has this talent of always breaking up on good terms on both sides, and his exes still hang around with my brothers often. His last girlfriend, Emory, comes over a lot to hang out with them. If she’s with Jack their out playing sports, and invite me and Matt to join in too. If she’s with Matt their working diligently on some project of theirs, and manage to prevent post-dating emotions to come between their work. He seems to have been lucky with Karma and has gotten away with only a few minor inconveniences. In elementary school he was bullied badly by a group of older jerks, so Jack got into boxing and other things like that, and taught us. Matt could always put up a good fight, but he never wanted to. That usually ended with a bruised 4th grader by the name of Jack Hale, and three 6th graders in the office with black eyes, bruises, split lips, and often a broken bone or two. They never got punished for it, and Jack could sweet-talk his way around punishment like a snake in a wire trap, so that went on for a while until they moved schools.

Now, at 7:00 in the morning I’m sitting on my bed, the one above vacant of my little sister, debating whether to follow her path, just as I had been doing for the last few days. Suddenly I hear the front door open, followed by Jack’s defiant shout, and the door slamming shut so hard it rattles the walls. It’s suddenly dead silent, the only sound a strange ringing in my ears.

I hate it from the depths of my heart, so I turn my music on, grab my speaker and hurry to the bathroom to get ready for school. I change out of my shorts and a thin t-shirt and into a pair of black leather leggings and a simple pale blue shirt with a dark blue collar, pulling an ice-blue leather jacket over my shirt. I brush my hair and straighten it, letting it drop down to my knees in long, tan strands until it was all straight and brushed then I brush it back into two sections over my shoulders, parted in a zig-zag pattern down my head. It takes time, but I manage to braid five, parallel braids across the right side of my head, gradually turning into one larger one behind my ear, letting the rest fall loosely across my back.