Chapter1
1222 Words
The alarm kept buzzing beside the drawer close to my bed. It made me sick. I had to stretch my hands and hit snooze but befuddled by sleep, I knocked it off the bedside drawer. It struck the ground and stopped buzzing, which I was pleased about.
”Mary, wake up! You are going to be late for practice," my dad yelled at me from somewhere beyond my room at 6 in the morning on a Saturday.
Maybe a little introduction of myself would do. My name is Mary David. I live in Amsterdam, Netherlands, I've lived there all my life. I'm not a very attractive person. To go straight to the very painful point, I am ugly. When I say ugly, I truly am that.
You probably don't believe what I just said, but here's a little detailing of me I bet will make you believe me: I was that girl with the very short messy hair, a mole on her face, braces on her teeth, and giant, utterly resilient pimples. And who would want to go out with an ugly nerd like me? If your answer was no one then points to you. I'd always had guys I crushed on but they had no idea. It worked out great for me. I believed crushes were a waste of time since they fade away soon enough.
I loved to bake. I guess I got that from my mom. I had been living in this estate for a long period with my family and life is not too bad—except today that I had my sleep time brutally cut short.
”Okay, Dad I'm up now,” I said, letting the blanket slowly slip away from my grip. I scratched my ass as I got out of bed, it seemed something has bitten me and it hurt.
I stared at my nest of hair in the furnished reflector before using my fingers to brush through them. I reached into my pink brush holder to get my brush and toothpaste.
I let the water from the toilet sink rush as I applied my toothpaste, I closed my eyes immediately the toothbrush was inside my mouth and working its magic. When I was done, I laid down beside the toilet door taking as much rest as I could. My stepmom knocked on the toilet door startling me as I realized I was getting late for my dance practice. Yes, stepmother.
My dad had married my step-mother when my mom died of breast cancer. I was 8 then. I never felt bad for once and I hardly missed my mom since my step-mother always made me feel loved.
"Hey Mary we have new neighbors, you might want to bake them some banana muffins?" she asked.
”Sure, Lilian," I responded.
”Hurry up and come down for breakfast. You don't want your dad and I finishing everything," she joked.
I heard the room door close gently. Yes, I call my step-mom by her name. She said it was best we became best friends and close pals. My step-mom had told me she had a son, who was actually about my age but we hadn't met before since he grew up and still lived with his father. Lillian had gotten divorced from her first husband for some reason I did not know.
She had told me her son was going to be living with us this summer, I was a bit pleased since I had no siblings. I was the only child of my mom and dad. At least I was going to have someone to fill that space soon. I knew we weren't real siblings but I was ready to be his sibling, I didn't care to ask why he was going to live with us because I cared less about that.
I left the bathroom soon after I took my shower. I took my big polo shirt and baggy trousers which was my usual way of outfitting from my closet.
I didn't bother arranging my room or making myself look civilized, I slung on my backpack and dragged my sneakered feet, closing my room door behind me. I guess you could classify me as tattered but I didn't care.
I went down the stairs to the kitchen balcony dropping my bag and heading to the kitchen.
"Hello, Baby Mary," Lilian said, giving me a peck.
"Good morning Lilian," I said going to the fridge to get a cup of juice.
"Morning, Baby Mary," Lilian replied. "I hope you slept well."
”Yes. What should I help with?" I asked.
”You could take this sausage to the dining your dad must be all hungry,” she said.
I did as she asked without hesitation.
"Morning dad?" I said going up to give my dad a peck on the cheek. He was so engrossed in the morning newspaper he barely took his eyes off it to smile at me before returning to his paper.
Feeling defeated at failing to gain his attention, I said, "Dad table manners."
”Oh, honey, I am almost done," he said with pleading eyes.
I checked my time. It was 6:40 A.M already, I shove my remaining pie into my mouth before washing it down with some orange juice.
"Dad, I am late," I said hanging my backpack and pecking him on the cheek.
"Have a great day," he said.
"Sure daddy." To Lillian, I yelled, ”Bye, Lilian. I love you!”
”I love you more,” I heard her say.
”Today De... would be becoming.”
I didn't hear her complete her statement as I closed the door. Going to the garage, I unlocked my bicycle, climbed on it as I walked down the street.
I sighted the new neighbors. They were busy unloading the moving van parked in front of their home. One of the children, a teenage boy around my age stared back at me as I continued to stare, not withdrawing my gaze. I didn't notice the car pulling up in front of me before it hit me. I hit the ground registering pain as it shot through my aggrieved body. I looked in the direction of the teenage boy who had failed to—or rather chosen not to—warn me but the boy was gone.
Jerk, I thought.
The driver door opened.
"Are you okay?" The young teenage boy asked.
”Yes. I am fine." I nodded. ”I am so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going," I apologized.
”It's fine," he said.
I picked my bicycle while trying to dust myself off. While I tried to restore myself to some semblance of organization, a call came in on his cell and he took it.
”Yes, mom? I am at the estate,” I heard him say as I rode my bicycle not to get any delay. I got to my school where I had the dance practice—my best friend had forced me to join the dancing group since she was going to be the only new person otherwise during practice. I wasn't the best dancer, but I could successfully attempt most dancing moves.
There were two dancing groups at my school: the first was the dancing squad for nerds and the other was the dancing squad for the more popular students.
You could guess the one I fell into.
- Writer
