The Shadow of Our Past

Chance

The blare of an alarm jolts me up to a sitting position in my bed. Bright light streams onto my face and into my eyes, my expression contorting with their squint. With a shake of my head, messy hair blocks my vision. Sighing, I run a hand through the tangled, brown strands and pull knots out as I go.

A lazy hand falls over my phone to stop the increasingly annoying alarm, then I swing my legs off the bed. The soft carpet against my feet moves under my wiggling toes. A familiar click of a cat door catches my attention to the cat entering the room. The small figure of fluffy, long hair trots over to the side of my bed and I stand to greet her.

"Well hello Maxine." The cat gives an indignant meow and flops onto her back to show her belly. "You're such a brat, but an adorable brat," I chuckle as I bend down to glide my hand through her fur. She revels in the attention for a moment, before my hand pulls away, "I gotta get ready. I'll have plenty of time to snuggle you after I go to hell and back." Grumbling, I think of the lectures and work ahead of me. The thought makes me want to snuggle back into my blankets and fall asleep again.

A pair of jeans and a navy blue shirt are neatly folded on my chair where I set them the night before. After getting dressed and further taming my wild hair, I slip on some socks and brown, knee high boots.

Books and paperwork are scattered around along with pens and pencils on my desk and nightstand. After a long night of studying and homework, this is how my room usually looks. I gather the things I'll need during my day, put them into my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

After checking that I have what I need, I pull open the door that leads me to the living room. A T.V is on the wall closest to me along with a huge clock and other beach themed decorations. There's a couch in front of our T.V and a clear pool room to the right of the living room, divided by a glass wall. Our house is simple, modern and comfortable, making it perfect for a life in Florida.

Even though my dad lives in the same house, me and my mom rarely see him. He's a fireman and is never home when I'm awake. My mom works at a large company and at this point I'm not even sure what she does. She tries her best to spend time with me, but that time is short and limited. She goes to other states for weeks on end and during those weeks I'm practically home alone. My mom and I sometimes feel like the only people left in our house when she is actually home.

My mom is sitting at the counter with a phone pressed to her ear. Papers are spread around an open laptop. She mouths a quick, "Goodbye, Kira" as I pass. I return the gesture with a smile as I pass her. I walk to the doorway, grabbing my keys from the entryway table by the side of the door. I tend to get out of the house as soon as I'm ready. I love my mom's company, but spending time with my friends is just as important. With a twist and a pull, the door opens and a wave of cool, morning air hits my face. I briskly make my way down the walkway, pressing the 'unlock' button on my keys. My car, a white convertible, unlocks with a click and I place my bag on the passenger seat. With an exasperated sigh my tired body practically falls into my own seat. The car rumbles with a twist of my key and I begin driving down the street.

After a ride full of traffic, I swing my car into the highschool's parking lot with an annoyed huff. I hate this school and it seems to hate me in return. I pull into my normal spot, unbuckling and waiting. Students occasionally pull in and get out of their cars, either going inside the building or to a friend's car. The only thing I enjoy about this school is the awesome view around it. It's your typical Florida landscape, beautiful palm trees and vibrant plants. The best part is the breathtaking view of the ocean on the west side of the building. However beautiful the world can be, I can't find it in me to not see its darkness everywhere I look. Colorful plants and blue oceans can't hide the horrible things that occur beyond them, not to me.