Those who have Thorns

1

Journal Entry 1

When recalling a childhood memory, I always have one age I can easily begin to remember fully, but the farther I think about the earliest memories, it's harder to recall them. I find myself only grasping upon fragments, the harder the thought process the more I question if it actually happened. I always have photos to look at for reference, maybe that's why I feel so drawn to the photographs from my childhood. To me, they are like small pieces of a puzzle I have building in my mind. But there is one piece I can't seem to find.

The memory or person I am trying to grasp to remember is of my father. He left us after my mother got sick, but I was too young when all this happened. I know there are photos of him, but my mother took them all down when he left, I can't find them, no matter how hard I look. When I close my eyes and try to remember him, all I get are remnants. The curve of his nose or a shine behind his hazel eyes, bits of a person that I can't quite put together. I am not positive these are pieces from my actual memory or if they are my imagination making up images so I don't feel fatherless. My mom did remarry a few years later to one of her doctors. Life is an unexpected roller coaster with events that you never plan for. My closest and oldest friend is Jayden, well from what I can remember and he has been with me through everything. We have been friends since Kindergarten and he was the only one to play with the girl who had "the sick mom". He is truly the brother I never wanted, he protects me when classmates picked on me or played pranks. The thing is I don't think he has noticed that I can take care of myself. He will soon become the least of my worries.

 ❥

I woke up from a knocking coming from the wall above my bed. I rolled over and looked at the clock, 6:30 am. I like my sleep and if I could I would not get up ever. I decided to ignore it since I want to sleep for thirty more minutes. My eyes begin to shut again and sleep begins to envelope me until I am rudely awoken by banging, getting louder by the second, if that was possible. What in the hell does he want? Ripping myself from the warmth of the covers I make my way to the culprit of the awful noise. Entering into the room to the left of mine, without knocking. I scream; "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!" and Gavin turns to look at me with confusion written all over his face. He was wearing nothing but black boxers. He is a beautiful sculptured six foot greek god. His back muscles ripple as he turns to face me. My eyes couldn't stop looking at the flexing of his arm when he was balling something up. Before I could brace myself I was hit, pulling me from my trance I yank the dirty shirt off me. My eyes then meet a devilish smirk through his messy black hair, which made his icy blue eyes pop even more.

He strode his way towards me looking at me with that smirk painted on his face. Examining me with his eyes, sending tingles down my body. "Nice pajamas," he says in a slow whisper. I look down and remember that I'm wearing my oversized pink floyd shirt and blue briefs, but the shirt just barely covered them. I looked up with a flush face, he put himself right in front of me and placed one hand on my cheek while the other one tugs at the hem of my shirt. Leaning down so his mouth was right on my ear, "My old shirt looks good on you. We are leaving at seven thirty for school," his breath sent more shivers down my body.

Pulling himself away from me, his smirk was gone. Removing his presence from my personal space he made his way back to his pile of clothing. I was stuck there motionless, he does this on a regular basis and I am always affected by it. The way my body reacts to his irks me to my core. But him being more naked was a new one, shaking off the feeling of possible attraction I have for my step brother, I need to sit down and collect myself. My ass is about to make contact with the bed when he yells at me, "Don't sit down!" I stop, why?! I spun around to see a human sized lump in the bed. She started to shift under the covers. I whispered; "Who is it?" He nonchalantly replies; "None of your business. Just go get dressed and be downstairs by seven."