2. As Expected

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        September 2nd
        Reporting the small act of oversight performed by Agents N. and A. Harris. Agent R. Harris was alert and apprehensive of the situation.

      2. As Expected 

      Date: September 2nd

I used to come home to the exact same thing almost every day. I’d open the door to my house, tired from a long day of school, and hope to be met with silence. But my hopes were usually squashed the second I stepped inside.

        The day that I remember the most is September second. It was only a day after the incident with Kyle, and when I went to school everyone was still talking about it. The stares bothered me, but I pretended they didn’t. Didn’t do much, pretending. Not when Kyle couldn’t even look me in the eye.

        I felt kind of guilty.

        That’s why I pretend that I don’t remember how I felt when Kyle’s friend Madison glared directly at me as soon as I stepped into my Trig class. But I still admit that I remember coming home in a bad mood, only to be met with arguing voices. Again.

          .         .          .

        “I’m just saying, Aaron!” Mom exclaims. Her tone is desperate as she throws her arms up in the air in frustration. “Rachel is grown up now. We need someone to fill in for Kellie’s position, and I think it’s time we do what we were supposed to have done years ago. Rachel could replace Kellie. And she ought to know that we’ve—”

        I attempt to close the door behind me quietly, tip-toeing inside the house and being cautious when stepping on the creaking floorboards. But apparently I don’t do it quietly enough, because both Aaron and my mother turn towards me before I have the chance to take another step.

        I’ve just walked in on yet another fight between them. And yet again, they’ve caught me red handed trying to eavesdrop. This time I heard my name, though; for once I caught a glimpse of a real conversation.

        I look between the two of their faces, noticing the tension between them as the seconds pass awkwardly. Normally my mother and Aaron would try to obscure the room of all negativity once I walk in. Normally they would continue their sentences with less harmful words as if they weren’t just ripping each other’s heads off moments before.

        But this time no one does anything to cover it up.

        Aaron’s broad, muscular figure turns to my mother, his tone quiet but still effective. “She stays out of it,” he orders. And in less than five seconds time, Aaron is up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door.

        A typical day at the Harris residence, then.

        Not bothering to ask what they’re both so upset about, I continue up the stairs and go into my own room, closing the large door softly behind me.

        I take a moment to look over my room. Everything seems to be in place, but Mom has a tendency of remembering where things were when she’s finished snooping through my things. I look closely at the objects in my room to make sure I’m not missing anything.

        All the way to my right lays a walk-in closet – the one that I barely even use, let alone fill with stylish clothes – next to a golden-decorated set of double doors that open to a balcony. The room is a sight to look at.

        A sigh escapes my lips as I make my way past my messy desk and fall onto my bed. With the intentions of taking a nap, I reach over and grab my room-control remote. It seems as though this week is becoming the most eventful week of my life.

       My eyes glued to the white ceiling, I blindly feel for the square button that turns off my light. As soon as I press the button the room goes black.

          .         .          .

        I used to tell myself that one day I wouldn’t have to walk in on an argument. I told myself that one of those days, I was going to get fed up with all the secrets. One of those days, I was going to confront them. And one of those days, I was going to explode.

        I was right.

                     *          *          *

       Hmm. . .        These two are hiding something. What could it be?

       [Just going to ignore the fact that all of you have read the description . . .]
       Comment your opinions! And vote if you like it. [You know the drill. Commenters and free dedications.]

       ' AwesomelyBlaze

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