Your Chance

Deux

The morning of April 1, 2016 was that of a normal one. You, as so named Ewa Y/n Sawnew, hoisted yourself up against the front of the bed, leaning your head towards the small shelf that your bunk provided. You blinked away the last shreds of dream that lightly clung to your eyelashes, and with some effort, you pulled off the blankets; revealing the scrawny legs attached to you. Almost immediately, however, they were covered by the sheets layering the bed. The cold ventilation of the home you lived in was being blasted throughout the large room. The other residents of this room, however, laid still in their bed, unexposed to the drafty air that filled their room. You would've felt jealous, if not for the fact that sleep still lay it's heavy comforter over your head, dulling your senses down to "I need sleep" or perhaps "It's cold."

As you might have figured out, you don't like mornings too much

Sighing, you got up, again meeting face to face with the cold. That was fine, as it just couldn't be helped. You swing your legs over to the side, wincing as pain flooded your legs, the wood perimeter of your bunk the culprit.

You felt your head attempting to forget the pain, making you get up. You took a few steps to the mirror, exposing your pale skin to yourself, along with your pajamas.

There was sloth like movements in the bunk diagonal from yours, and you knew that it was time for everyone to wake up. You groaned inwardly, as you barely got time for yourself anymore. An added bonus of sleeping in a room with seven other children. You huffed going to the closet door, conveniently located right next to the door.

You picked out one of the outfits on your side of the walk-in closet.

You chose a simple black t-shirt that read "Say it to my face; if you can even reach it." With some black jeggings and regular sneakers. The Converses that you had been offered were a tight fit, and you couldn't run without feeling some sort of pain in your feet. Letting out a huff of annoyance, you recalled some of shoes that your new caretaker, Mrs Harou, placed on front of you in hopes that you would like at least one pair. Shuddering, you thought back to the Vans she had placed in front of you. The checkerboard pattern and the tight fit, not to mention it gave you blisters to even walk in them. No, you fancied your comfortable memory foam shoes. 'After all,' you thought to yourself, slipping on your socks,'Those shoes aren't made for running, they are for showgirls who don't like getting their hands dirty.' You smiled to yourself. Your mother had told you that before you had left. She was always there to give her opinion, even when it wasn't needed.

"FIRST!" You jumped, hearing one of the boys you roomed with yell out. Julius, other wise known as Caesar yell out. He had no volume control, and you didn't know if it was because of his past or being 6, but it was your warning call to leave to the kitchen downstairs. So, you peaked out the slightly opened door. The biracial boy hadn't gotten up yet from his bunk, so you were clear to speed away to the door. However, his bunk was above yours and if he leaned over the railing, he could point his eagle eyed vision to the closet door.

It wasn't like you hated him, but the little boy was competitive, and one of the highschoolers that roomed with you bet that Julius could beat you downstairs. As much as you loved both of those boys, you wanted Dublan to eat his own words. Besides, he said he would buy you f/f if he lost, and you had run out of your personal stash a week ago.

So, when Julius wasn't looking, you took a small swan leap to the walling of the bunk bed. You looked to the side to check if anyone else was awake. Kennedy and James, along with the ever so chatty Amanda, were awake. They were all popular kids at the Middle School you went to. Kennedy and Amanda were conversing in Kennedy's bunk above, while James was across, looking at his phone, probably on TikTok.

You knew that you had to act fast, as Dublan could wake up any minete. So, you crab crawled to your bunk, ducking inside for cover.

James had glanced in your direction, but he hadn't glanced at you, and you knew it. He had glanced at Maud, a 8 yet old that everyone thought he had a crush on. You knew better, as he had confided in you that he had an younger sister that he had left behind in search of a better home. You also knew that he thought his long lost sister was named Maudlin.

That didn't matter, however, as you bolted to the door, managing to get out without being seen.

_~° At breakfast °~_

You sat silently, munching on a piece of toast you made. The kitchen was completely silent other than you chewing on the toast.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Ewa, the living zombie." A voice came out of the shadows of the hall, startling you back into a more conscious state of mind. You turned your head, adorning a sneer. "What, bradberry, did you girlfriend refuse to have səx with you or something?" You snapped, turning your head to face the unnatural blond.

"Wow, E, that was scorching." Another voice, belonging to a Carmeline Adams, admitted with an admiring tone. She worked as a nanny, but sure didn't act like one to the adopted children of the Harou house hold.

"Ewe! D@mn, you get harsher every time! Got anything to say, bradberry?" Chuckled another boy, leaning against the first ones shoulder. "Shut up, kaiden." The voice, also known as Brad, tossed back to kaiden. "So, what are you doing down here at 5:12 in the morning squirtle?" Brad said, messing with your beautifully combed hair. "Did that idiot Dublan make a bet with you again?" You winced inwardly at the fatherly tone of Brad used. While he could and had been a jerk to you before, you two both went through similar situations before you both came here, and once brad figured that out, he decided that he cared about you.

"He said he would buy me f/f if I got down here unseen AND first." You say, shifting a hoodie that had just been washed. Carmeline sat down with a cup of oranges in hand, clenching her open hand into a fist. "I swear when I get my hands on that boy," she grits her teeth in anger, almost squeezing the [poor] orange to bits. "Not if I kill him first!" Brad spat, sealing the argument into place as the duo fought. You just looked at them bored, checking the oven clock casually, seeing that it was 7:50-HOLY SHEEP YOU WERE GONNA BE LATE IF YOU DIDN'T RUN NOW. You got up and grabbed your backpack, Olympic running towards the school. You felt adrenaline pumping through your veins as you finnaly got through the gate.

Oh, what a lovely day you are having.