Catching Me (Being Edited) ✔

Home (1)

♥Home♥

The rain dances across the concrete floor as I hold my two big and very heavy suitcases, one in each hand. I'm standing before an ever-so familiar house, but I haven't set foot in it in over five years. Everything about it is just how I remembered. The same metal gate and it still opens with a creek. The flower beds, lined with rows and rows of flowers, kept tidy and perfect.

    From the short walk from the yellow cab, that's now speeding down the small country roads of the little village in the middle of nowhere. The village where I'd spent my early childhood, but made me a very uncontrollable eleven year old. My clothes were wet from the rain that was still hitting against me. My body had already begun absorbing the cold water, which was making its way through the material of my clothes. My hand reaches for the doorknob, and I slowly begin to twist it, expecting it to have been faced with a door that is locked. I find it turns with ease. The door made a light creek, while the gate was more of a clang; this was a small noise that you wouldn't hear from more than about five feet from where I'm am standing.

    I pull my bags into the hall, closing the door behind me, all to prevent the rain from increasing the puddle on the hallway floor. My clothes were already dripping water onto that floor. I remove the hood from my head, only to reveal the knotted, straight, brown hair that complements my pale skin. As I look at myself in the small cracked mirror in the hall, my eyes dart across my face to see if I have any blemishes. My skin has a thin layer of makeup on that's now running down my face due to rain, and it's made me look like a wreck.

    I could hear laughter coming from the sitting room, and I would say maybe four male voices. My brother's the only one I could recognize. I wipe my face, removing the mess that my make-up has made. Taking a deep breath, I walk towards the chatter. I pause outside the sitting room to take another breath before pushing the door open to reveal my brother and three other guys.

    None are looking at me as they're all engrossed in a game. I would have said COD, but you're asking the wrong person. To me, every single computer game was the same, and they all involve killing an extensive number of people. I've never understood how you could get enjoyment out of such a cruel idea, let alone a game.

    I can only see the back of their heads; two brown haired guys. One blond hair guy and the last was a cross between the two colors. I bite down on my lip, unsure whether I should talk.

    "Tyler," I say, causing all four heads to turn around and face me. The blonde's eyes went to trace my body almost immediately, and the other brown haired guy looks familiar. The last was looking at me a little confused. My brother, on the other hand, was glaring, glaring like he thought that if he concentrated on me for enough time I would catch on fire and turn to dust before his eyes.

    He stands up and walks around the small, blue couch only to block me from the view of the other guys. I look up at him, his six feet and two inches gaining the upper hand in terms of height. We are clearly brother and sister, we both thought that we were always right. Whenever we had a fight, we would either be angry, bringing down wherever we were at that precise moment, or not talk to one another for about month.

    "Scarlett, why are you here gracing us with your presence?" I could hear the sarcasm coming from every word, every syllable as I watch his mouth move as he speaks. Our relationship has not been right in over five years; it's strained, awkward, and uncomfortable. Yet there was most likely not a singer person on this planet who could look me in the eye and tell me honestly that they had never had a problem with their family.

    While I was growing up, he was the big caring brother that looked out for me, twenty-four-seven. He's currently in his senior year in high school at nineteen years old. He was held back in fourth grade, but that wasn't down to his fault. He had got into a nasty accident, which killed our uncle, and one of our cousins. It took Tyler a long time to get over that, and I sometimes see him staring into space. I bet that's what he's thinking. Tyler was in a coma for three months, and by the time he was even capable of going back to school, there was really no point. He spent the whole month of May at home watching TV and trying to get over such a horrific thing. We were only just over two years apart from one another, but we were once so close, and it seems as if we have drifted apart.