RINGGGG RING RINGGG Urgh, what is that noise?! Make it stop, I think tiredly to myself. I bang my hand on my bedside table trying to turn off the alarm clock. Finally, after the fifth try I succeed.
"LEYLA GET UP! SCHOOL STARTS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!" Dammit, I must've dozed off. Slowly I heave myself out of bed and chuck on a pair of ripped boyfriend jeans, and an oversized hoodie. On most girls this outfit would make them look like the opposite gender, but I'm confident I can pull it off.
I make my way to the bathroom, bumping into my little, seven year old brother on the way.
"Hi Leyla," he beams, staring up at me.
"Hey, what's up Joshy? Have you had brekkie yet?" I reply, ruffling his hair.
Before he has a chance to reply a booming voice shouts from downstairs, "LEYLA YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES, HURRY UP FOR GODS SAKE!"
"YEAH I'M COMING DAD, CALM DOWN, GEEZ," I shout back.
"Sorry buddy, I gotta go," I shout over my shoulder as I hurry to the bathroom.
In the bathroom I stare into the mirror for a full minute, wondering what the hell I'm going to do with my hair, or more like the birds nest on top of my head. I guess I'm going to have to go with the whole "just woke up" look today. I put on some mascara, eye liner and lippy, just so I don't look exactly like the grinch.
"YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE TO GET DOWN HERE YOUNG LADY, I'M COUNTING!"
Damn Dad's getting frustrated.
"WOW DAD, BE A LITTLE MORE PATIENT, I'M COMING OKAY?"
Slowly I make my way down the stairs, just to make it clear to my father that I'm not in a hurry to do what he says.
When I get to the kitchen I see my dad, running around chaotically, his dirty blond hair uncombed and messy, just like mine, the dark circles under his eyes are more prominant now than they were a few weeks ago. Without my mother here he's completely disheveled. My mum died five years ago, I was ten years old and Joshy was two, too young to realise what had happened. Mum died in a devestating car accident, and although she died on her Death Date, she died one minute late. The only person in history ever to do so.
Dad looked up and saw me. "You better have a very good reason for being this late Leyla."
"I overslept, dad. No biggie," I say, grabbing a musli-bar.
"No biggie?! You better get your act together, I'm sick of it, and adjust you're attitude while you're at it. Now make sure Josh is ready for school and get him in the car."
I bite my tongue to stop the flow of insults I'm dying to throw at my father, lately he seems a bit stressed and I don't want to make it worse for him. But I do settle on slamming the door when I leave the kitchen.
YOU ARE READING
Hourglass
Teen FictionI live in a world where people are surrounded by grief, there is no escape. Time itself is as precious as gold, it's as precious as money.
