The imperfections of love

Manic Mondays

Dear readers, hope you like my new story. I have a feeling I might actually finish this, it's inspired by my high school highlights. Enjoy and if you like comment and add a beautiful star to my story so many others can read it too :P

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Manic Mondays

Monday mornings, how my body yearned to wake up that delightful morning, note the sarcasm. I turned over in my bed for possibly the hundredth time in the 9 minutes that had past. Hoping to sleep for several more minutes I closed my eyes tightly, knowing I had to wake up for school made me realise how pointless this whole routine was. Every morning my alarm would go off at exactly seven thirty in the morning and instead of me actually getting my lazy ass out of bed I would quickly click the snooze button and happily relish in ten more minutes in my bed. This is what brought me to the present time where I was snugged in between my sheets sniffing my bedding like it was just freshly cleaned. Knowing I had matters of seconds before I had to actually get up I listened to the quietness of my room. As much as I detested Monday mornings, I actually enjoyed Mondays by the ten minutes snooze session, as my family had already left the house for the day. As on cue my alarm vibrated through the room, that obnoxious familiar noise made me scrunch my face and bury it within my pillow. Though suffocating my face did not make the irritating noise disappear. I begrudgingly slipped out of my covers before I threw my phone at the wall. I would only regret breaking my lovely iPhone 5 later. You may be envious now of my beautiful phone which I adored so much I practically kept it by my side twenty-four-seven. It was the inanimate object that I socialised more with than an actual human being. Yes I was one of those typical teenagers who had more of a relationship with the phone than actually having a social life and possibly a boyfriend… *sigh* but those times had long past and boy did I know it.

            Passing the opportunity to be grounded, for my parents having to fork out money for another phone due to my inability to wake up and face the day, I stumbled out of bed and turned the ridiculous fog horn sounding alarm. Thinking it may be an interesting idea to actually insure my phone so that I could feel the pleasure of destroying that horrendous noise, I groggily strolled into the bathroom. Waking up on a Monday morning was one think but sharing a bathroom with your older brother was another. Seeing that he had already used the bathroom thanks to the evidence he left behind just brightened my day immensely. I may need to mention I am quite a germ freak, especially since being scarred for life due to my brother’s lack of cleaning abilities. My brother Ford being the airhead jock he’s always been finds it acceptable to leave the house looking life a tornado has passed through. He was a hibernating bear like me when it came to the morning. My mother being the early bird she is manages to drag, yes drag, my six foot two brother out of bed before seven, which I find amazing and impossible. Me and Ford are very alike with our blonde hair and blue eyes, our personalities bubbly, charismatic and extremely annoying making us communicate as siblings. To say without our similarities we would not communicate at all, we are completely different in the world we live in, known as the small town of Ashby. To say my brother is idolised among the inhabitants of Ashby would be an understatement.  Ford was well known among all, including the six thousand people that made up Ashby’s population. Ford being popular since he first stepped foot in poor little Winston high school’s gym he excelled from the little athletic wannabee to the aspiring preppy popular Jock airhead he is now. Being in a middle class family does not get you accepted into the posh preppy private schools where they iron their knee high socks and polish those leather loafers, no we started at the bottom and Ford brought us to the top, and we are never to forget that. Ford being the sports man he is, attended every football game, he always played quarterback due to him being able to practically ‘floor’ the opponents.  Even though we were living in England, Ford had successfully gained the eye of American footballer scouts, to offer him the opportunity of a life time. Being four years older than me at the age of sixteen he had his future well planned out. He had secured me a place at the most stupendous and snobby private school in the area, St. Clément’s school for the talented and gifted. As much as I appreciated the thought my big brother put into my education he practically threw me in the deep end with the sharks.