The Double Life Of Kyle Masters

Chapter 1

I thought I should at least write out Chapter 1.
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I feel really light headed.

"Mommy.....mommy." I try calling out to my mother who is in the front drivers seat.

I try to reach out for her, but being trapped in the seat belt and my small arms, refrains me from doing so.

"Mommy." I call out once again trying to desperately gain her attention.

She hangs upside down by her seat belt, like me but instead of the blood rushing to her head, it runs up her face,through her short brunette hair and lands softly on the broken glass pieces on the car's roof top.

"Momma," I call out once more.

A bright light shines directly in my face to the left side of me.

"Kid, kid look at me. Are you okay?" A masculine voice asks me.

"Mommy."

A loud screeching sound fills my ears as the light seems to grow brighter.

Beep beep beep

I jerk awake suddenly feeling the sweat that is running rampantly down my face and reach over to shut off the annoying alarm clock.

I have a deep unsettling urge to throw that alarm clock to the wall one day.

I extend my arm over to the other side of my bed to turn on the football decorated lamp on my oak covered nightstand.
Light engulfs the room and I admire the posters all around.
From quarterbacks Tom Brady, Sam Bradford, Russell Wilson, Eli Manning and others like Tray Walker, but its not the posters I see that I'm really admiring, it's what's underneath them.

Turning my head slightly to the door, is my favorite one. On top of that, is the picture of some random blonde half naked model.

I don't really even like the picture but it's what makes the room seem more ordinary and regular for a male teenage senior like me.

I walk lazily over to the conjoined bathroom to get ready. Already knowing the time, which is around six twenty I have at least thirty minutes before I need to get to school.

Looking in the mirror for a minute, I remind my self of my own mother, both of us with the same hair and skin complexion, yet unlike her I have my fathers eyes, a deep piercing blue.

Ten minutes later, I quickly pace out of the room fully clothed in a black tee and dark blue jeans with black Reeboks, bookbag in hand.

I walk pass my father's room knowing that he isn't here.
He hardly ever is, since that night.
Also, with him being the football coach, its surly something that keeps him busy and away from me.

Dropping my bookbag near the counter of the kitchen, I get out something quick to eat.

Sitting down on the metal stools, I eat the yogurt and down the orange juice in record time.

Placing the dishes in the sink and the garbage in the trash can, I pick up my things heading for the front door with fifthteen minutes left.

Before walking out, I stop near an old picture of my mother.

She looks so young with soft brown hair and caramel eyes, her skin alight as she stands proudly next to my father, who has dark black hair and warm blue eyes, holding a much younger version of me on his shoulders, all of us happy and smiling.

I place three fingers on the top left corner of the frame and breath in slowly, trying not to remember the fatal accident that took place ruining the many happy moments that would never come.

"I miss you mother." I breath out.

Carefully taking my fingers off of the frame, I approach the white front door once more with my backpack slung around my left arm.

I look up at the sky to see dusky gray clouds that sadly loom over the neighborhood.

"Rain." I mutter to myself as I get in the simple white Ford. Its always like this in South Dakota.

Hopping in quickly, I turn on the ignition and start up the car preparing to leave.

Pulling out, I make my way towards Lincoln High, home of the undefeatable Wizards. My father and I are the only reasons why the school even has the title in the first place.

Also as a team captain, my job is to make sure it stays that way until I graduate.

Pulling into the school I park in my usual place, at the front next to a silver Mercedes Benz that belongs to none other than the mayor's daughter and cheer captain.

I take a deep breath, debating whether I should skip the day or go inside to deal with the mess of boring responsibilities and dull drama.

If my father finds that I had missed a day of practice, he'll surly have my head on a stick.

With that, I find that I have no other choice.

Getting out and grabbing my things I enter the prison with only one thought in mind.

Please don't let her come to school today.