Chapter 1
The smell of french toast and bacon grease filled the house, with a thick smog of smoke through the kitchen. Opening the window to let the smoke out, the sun shines in making the table arrangement sparkle. Grabbing a pill bottle from the cabinet dumping them all out in a ziplock bag. Looking at myself in the reflection of the microwave door the sun on my dark brown hair, with my eyes bloodshot from the sleepless nights of crying. If you look closer you can see my concealer caked up under my eyelids trying to hide the dark circles under my eyes. Flinching at the sound of the shower curtains upstair, knowing Blake would be down any minute grabbing the hammer under the sink smashing the pills into a powder. Pouring the powder from the zip lock bag into a bowl of syrup throwing it in the microwave for forty-five minutes hoping not really knowing if it would melt of affecting the taste. Laying the big plate of french toast in the middle of a normal Americano dining room everything in place, looking like I was trying to feed an army when I was just trying to kill one boy.
I run back to the microwave checking my deathly syrup. With everything looking melted I sit the bowl on the table with a spoon on his side hoping he would dive into a killer breakfast I had just made him. Sinking down in my chair listening to every move upstairs as he gets out of the shower, puts on his clothes, fixing his hair for all the girls he has lined up to screw over. An unexpected silence falls over the house leaning up trying to hear any movement upstairs, my phone rings making me jump. My hands shaking turning it over to see my dad calling with his picture from Christmas of last year when we got him the golf clubs he alway wanted. That was before the bad things happened. Nothing has been the same for either of us.
“ Beth?”
His same dark brown hair just like mine feel in his hazel eyes that he had inherited from my mother. He wore another one of those tight fitting shirts that make his biceps look bigger than they will probably ever be. With his perfect smile, his teeth were as white as snow and his lips as pink as my childhood room walls. It must be such a burden to be so beautiful and so evil. To keep all your secrets in your head trying to subside the pain with football championships and beer. Watching him walk into the kitchen looking for me looking in the living but I was still nowhere to be found, he turned his head to see me sitting at the end of the table sipping on the fresh orange juice I had prepared the night before.
“ Why aren’t you answering me?” His eyes widen at the sight of food.
“ I was busy fixing you this.”
He made his way to his seat at the end of the table, with no manners or grace he flops his butt into the cushioned seat. Flopping four pieces of french toast only leaving me only two, crushing his bacon on top like some freak. Gulping his orange juice down his throat hearing him swallow.
“ No Thank you.” Giving him one last chance to show some decency
“ I would but, I’m scared you're going to tell me you're pregnant or some shit like that under my watchful care.”
Well, he usually just blew his own life with that little remark.
“ I just thought you would want something then pop tarts on your game day.”
He laughed. “ When have you ever care about me or football?”
Taking a bite of bacon. “ Maybe I’m a changed women?”
Pouring the thick warm poisonous syrup on his french toast brought a smirk to my face.Taking a gulp of my orange juice feeling the cold liquid go down my throat into my stomach. Opening the timer on my phone with a minute countdown waiting for his first bite. Passing me the syrup spreading his on his toast trying to easily spread it evenly, bringing his first bite to his mouth chewing it violently as I watch it slide down his throat I push the start time button on my phone.
“ Are you on a diet on something?”
Getting out of my chair walking over never breaking my stare from his hazel eyes.
“ Nah, I’m probably going to get a workout today from dealing with your dead body.” a smirk forming on my face.
Coughing. “ What the hell are you talking about?”
Holding my phone to his face only have thirty seconds left. “ I wouldn't be talking like that if I was on my way to seeing Jesus.”
The coughing gets more violent. “ Something is wrong.” Falling to the floor trying to find balance on the kitchen table with his sweaty nervous hand slipping
Kneeling by his side. “ Your blood has already stopped carrying oxygen to your cells. I bet that is painful.”
His eyes wide open hands on his chest. “ What did I do to deserve this?”
Tears filled my eyes, swallowing hard. “ I know you rapped Amanda.”
Barely able to get the words out saliva pouring out of the corners of his mouth. “ You know she was a hoe right?”
Kicking him in the stomach feeling the tear rush to my eyes, watching my brother take his last breaths on the dining room rug. Pulling out the chair beside him almost falling in it about to faint trying to calm down, leaning my head back closing my eyes with the only sound in the house being the timer on phones still go off next to me. Coming out of my shock like coma looking at the clock with only fifteen minutes till school starts I grab my phone turning the alarm off picking up my backpack at the door and running in my car, speeding off to school.
Crissy talking to a group of guys as I pull into my parking spot, she waves running to the car getting in the passenger seat. Crissy had to be my new best friend since Amanda died, she wants my favorite creature on earth neither was I hers but we both were just trying to get out of high school alive. She looked like a model with her perfect sun-kissed skin and long flowing blonde hair past her shoulder falling down her back. With perfect shaped eyes and long lashes cover her ocean blue eyes, there was a reason she was surrounded by guys.
“ I almost thought you weren't coming to school today. You are always the first kid here.”
Blake had sports and I had academics that literally is the only thing that I was good at. I had just as many trophies and medals on my wall as he did, my parents just seemed to think Blake's were always more important. Making sure that he had whatever he need for game or money to go to tournaments. I had to work babysitting to make sure I had enough money for my school extracurriculars because my parents weren't sharing their dough with me claiming when they were on business he had to watch me when I was clearly watching myself. Crissy waving her hands in front of my face trying to get attention.
“ Did you do your Algebra homework last night?”
Trying to sound normal. “ You know I do.”
Digging in my backpack trying to seem like I had not just left my dead brother on the floor and had just gone to school.
“ Are you okay? You seem a little jumpy.”
I apparently wasn’t doing a good job, seeing my homework thrown in the bottom of my bag. Grabbing it handing it over to Crissey. She starts to copy my work in her notebook but, I stop her.
“ Just keep it, I not feeling that well.”
Holding my shoulder. “ You do look a little pale.”
Throwing my work in her backpack having what she had really came to get from me she runs back to her group of guys she left waiting as the bell rang. I back out of the parking lot watching as everybody rushes into school not knowing that their star quarterback had been killed by his own sister. How they probably won't even know that I was gone today except in math class where no one would have anyone to cheat off of.
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