Hope.

• Chapter 2 •

• Luca •

"Wake up, Luca!" My elder sister—Angela—yelled, shaking me awake. I groaned and shifted my position on the bed, trying to escape from her grasp. "It's time to get school, hermano. It's already eight-fifteen!" My eyes immediately flung open as I bolted upright and turned to face my sister. But what I saw made me actually want to strangle her. She had the biggest, most irritating smirk plastered on her face. She lied to me. My gaze shifted to my clock. It was six o'clock and we only had to leave at eight-thirty.

My eyes narrowed at my sister, shooting her the most intense glare I could possibly pull off. It made me look more constipated than angry, to be honest. God, I hate my baby face.

"Aye, you look like a constipated two-year-old when you're angry," she cooed, pinching my cheeks and practically voicing my thoughts. I immediately smacked her hands away. Pouting I folded my arms over my chest.

"Come mierda," I hissed, scowling at my older sister. She fake gasped and placed her perfectly manicured hand on her chest dramatically.

"¡Qué grosero!" She exclaimed, grabbing my pillow and whacking me with it. I gasped and quickly grabbed another pillow from behind me and whacked back at her. Soon after, we both were in a full-blown pillow fight, hitting each other over and over with our plush weapons. After a few minutes, it was only me repeatedly hitting her with the pillow. I could tell she was tired and a smug grin made its way onto my face. I had won.

"Okay, okay. I give up," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender before collapsing on my bed. I flopped down next to her, tired, too. We both laid there in silence for a while, staring at the ceiling. The only thing to be heard was the sound of our heavy breathing, due to the intense pillow fight. Wow, never thought I would say that. "First day today, huh?"

"Don't remind me," I groaned, dragging my hand down my face. I was absolutely not looking forward to school. Let's just say that I don't have it the easiest there and my good grades don't help the situation.

"Hey, tell me if anyone's giving you a hard time, okay?" My sister said, getting up from the bed. She looked down at me with a sad smile covering her tan face. I nodded, looking down at my hands as fiddled with my fingers. I did that a lot when I was nervous. Since I didn't reply she spoke up again. "Now get ready." She ruffled my hair and gave me a small peck on the forehead before walking out of the room. I loved my sister, even though I'd never admit it. I would rather die than tell her that. Okay, not really. I tell her occasionally.

I walked over to the washroom as I tried to rub out the tiredness in my eyes but it was useless. I turned on the tap and took a hand full of water then splashed it on my face. Some of it managed to get in my nose, causing me to cough and gasp for air. My eyes were watering like crazy due to the extreme stinging sensation in my nose. That is what you get for trying to splash your face as they show in commercials...There should be a 'Don't try this at home' thing each time someone does that.

After I had calmed down from my little "attack," my eyes drifted to the scrawny boy standing inside the mirror. I didn't like the way I looked. I tried to like it but I just couldn't. No matter how much I tried it was still just...me. My grey eyes that were almost black in the middle but turned so pale that at the edges it looked white was covered by curly jet black hair that was messily sticking out in every direction humanly possible, my tan skin was dusted with light freckles, and the scars had noticeably faded on my wrists. I bit my lip as I used my other hand to graze the pale scars that I had given myself. It was a while ago but I still remembered everything as if it had happened just the day before. I was glad that Angela found me but there were some days where I wish she hadn't come home when she did. Days when I wished I was just left there, lying in a pool of my own blood.