𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥

𝘵𝘸𝘰

𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘺

       The bright rays of sun bled through my window, onto my bed hitting my eyes. I felt my lips slowly curl into a smile. It's summer, finally the day has come. I sat up on my soft mattress, feeling my long hair tickle  my cheeks.

         Tom, my cat, slowly walked over to me cuddling his fur into my crossed legs. "Good morning Tom" my hands ran through the locks of fur on his skin.

        I already smelled the bacon frying on the pan, good old breakfast on a summer morning. Moving my cat to the side I stood up from my queen sized bed filled with little painted flowers. My bare feet dragged themselves to the wide window looking over to the Hunter's house.

       I haven't seen a single soul walk out or into that house. It's quite strange to see someone there. I rolled my eyes really not wanting to think about the terrible years I had to put up with Brandon.

        Lifting up my arms I stretched up to the sky then down to the tips of my toes, my bones had a series of bone cracks. Walking over to the mirror I saw my messy tangled hair, it was a literal rats nest. I grabbed the hair tie that wrapped around my wrist perfectly and tied it up into a messy bun.

        I tugged my grey baby tee that had the words of 'New York' imprinted on the chest part. My short blue shots hung low on my hips. Lookin' like a hot mess.

        "Come on Tom, breakfast" I say opening the door, my orange cat didn't move one muscle. "Well you're missing out buddy"  walking down the stairs the food smell got stronger, my nostrils were being blessed.

         "Mornin'" I say reaching the last step, food was everywhere, literally. Fruits, bread, eggs, bacon, avocado, pancakes, waffles, any breakfast food you can think of. My dad sat at the head of the table drinking his usual morning coffee and my mom continued cooking breakfast.

        "Good morning hun!" My mom called out waving her oven mitt at me. She seemed awfully happy, my dad put down his newspaper and looked at me giving me a nod. Having a military father is a bit strange at times. He doesn't smile much and he gives a whole lot of orders. You can't even crack a joke with the man.

         "What's with all the breakfast?" I questioned  leaning over the counter grabbing some strawberries. I felt Tom, walk through my legs and press his body on my calves. 

          "Well...you know how Mason usually comes at the ends of July and spends a few weeks with us?" I nodded slowly trying to get what she was hitting, "he's coming home early! He called this morning saying that he was driving back from LA. Last I checked in with him he was already crossing to Texas. So he's very close!"

Right, the favorite perfect child is getting his favorite perfect food. I bit the inside of my cheek, it shouldn't be that bad. I mean I love my brother I do, we get along just fine but...he's the favorite. I'm honestly not exaggerating when I say that.

Mason is a football and baseball jock so my parents went to his games every Friday, religiously. They would make posters, dress up with his jersey number and school colors. Compared to me, I played volleyball, my parents only went to my first game, not even my senior night game.

Mason on the other hand went to all of my games with his annoying asshole bestie Brandon, but Mason went and walked me down for my senior night game, while Brandon embarrassed me with holding a poster of me sleeping and drooling all over my pillow. If Mason wasn't grabbing my arm while walking down the isle I would have ran over to Brandon and punch his smug face.

There is a list of things that my parents didn't go to or remember of. But Mason, that's who they live and breathe for. He knows that they pay more attention to him so he tries his best to include me or just be there to make me feel better.