The Hidden

Chapter One-2010

Chapter One- 2010

"Ange! Where the heck did you put my pink blouse?" Megan shrieked from the room next door, panic making a home in her voice, anger following close behind.

"Did you check the bottom of your closet?" I shouted back, slightly annoyed.  She expected me to know everything, including where she put things.

"Like it's really...oh," she shouted through the thin wall of wood and paint.  "Thank you!"

"Yep!" I replied, placing a few necessities into my purse.  I looked around my room, taking in the warm and comforting aura it gave to me.  Only a few more months, and that room would be bare and I would be off to college.

It was my last day of high school.  The last day of school, after thirteen years of hard, and sometimes miserable, work.  No more boring teachers.  No more stiff metal desks.  No more smell of dusty chalk boards or moldy books.  After that last day, I would never have to go back.  And that night, my friends and I would celebrate by partying until the crack of dawn.

I smiled, sighing contently.  That year had ben the best year of my life, so far.  It was fun, and exciting (outside of school of course).  I rarely had a down moment.  Even though I regretted some of the decisions I'd made, I wouldn't have changed a single thing.

I grabbed the handles of my purse, slinging it onto my shoulders, and turned towards the door.

In the doorway, my fifteen-year-old sister stood with her hands on her hips.  Her dark brown hair had recently been cut, being chopped off at her chin. Some of the hair was tucked behind her ears, revealing her double-pierced ears.  Her baby blue eyes watched me with a rebellious attitude inside them.  Her pointed nose held deep indents from the blue, oval-shaped glasses she wore, and her surronding sikin held a mixture of blackheads, freckles, and a few zits.  Her lips protruded slightly, the cause being her newly braced teeth.  On her stick-like body, she wore a bright pink Aeropostle t-shirt and white denim kapris.  Her size six-feet were covered by white converses.

"Can I have your white purse?" she asked, her air voice softly chirping.

"I thought you were wearing your pink blouse," I remarked, changing the subject as I pushed her into the hallway.  Once I had forced myself into the hallway, I started walking towards the staircase, and Megan followed behind.

"I was going to wear it, but then I decided it didn't go with my kapris," she explained in a 'duh' one.  "So can I have your white purse?"

"No," I stated.

"Why not? It's not like you ever use it," she snapped.

"You know that was a gift from Grandma Ruth," I told her, stopping to glare at her.  My grandma had passed away nine months prior.

Megan flinched under my gaze, "Yeesh, you're so touchy lately."

I rolled my eyes, and stepped down the stairs into the living room.  There, on the couch, reading the morning newspaper, sat my dad.

My dad was your average, everyday dad.  He went to work in a suit, and carried a suitcase with him.  However, instead of that sort of stern face that I see my friends' parents with, my dad was always smiling.  Sometimes, I swear he had laugh-lines on his laugh-lines.  I had managed to capture his leaf-green eyes durning the birthing process, the one thing I  had always liked about myself.  His eyes, however, had crow's feet in the corners, below the creases sculpted into his forehead.

As I entered, I saw his eyes lift up to em under his oval-shaped glasses, and his smile, almost impossibly widened.

"Look at you!" he greeted.  "Don't you look all snazzy!"