Serendipitous

Chapter 1

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The dreadful sound of the alarm makes me squirm, so I grab the clock and throw it at the wall with the hope that the terrible noise would finally stop. And stop it did. Shit, I thought as the clock hit the wall harder than I thought it would. In my head I count, three, two, one and

"For Christ's sake, what the hell was that?"

That's my brother, Steve. He is kind, smart, generous and handsome, or so I heard from countless family reunions. He scored a full scholarship to UCLA two years ago and my parents still remind everyone about that whenever they're given the chance. See, I'm sort of the black sheep of the family. I wasn't always like this, and by this I mean an angry, unhappy kid. Before that December night, I actually was...ordinary. And I say that in the best possible sense of the word. I was your usual, naive 17 year old girl with long, wavy blond hair and a genuine smile that was always plastered on my tan complexion. But there's always something that comes along and messes up everything.

I think I fell asleep then because I could feel my mom's warm hand gently shaking me awake. I ducked my head into the giant blanket so that she would leave me alone, but of course, that would never happen.

"Honey, come on. Aren't you super excited for your first day of college!" my mom exclaimed. That should have been a question, but my mom sort of answers everything for me without the faintest clue that sometimes, more often than not, our answers do not match. "Get ready, Ames. I brewed fresh coffee just for you, and your father got you donuts! Cinnamon - your favorite."

As she left the room, I got up from my warm, cozy bed and went straight into the shower. I like to take my time in the shower, because it's the only place where no one bothers me. But I didn't have the time for that, since I only had about twenty minutes to leave home if I wanted to make it to university on time. I wiped the fogged up mirror in the bathroom and stared at myself. Who are you? I thought. A pink haired girl with big brown eyes and a tough look stared back at me, but she wasn't fooling anyone. I knew there was a scared little girl hidden behind that tough, don't-touch-me-or-I'll-fucking-kill-you façade. I got dressed and went downstairs into the kitchen, where the warm, delicious smell of frosted cinnamon donuts with the bitter smell of coffee welcomed me. My father was already done with his breakfast as he read the daily newspaper, sipping his exceptionally sweet mug of coffee. I don't even know if you'd count it as coffee since he put in so much milk and sugar that any trace of coffee completely vanished.

"Hey, Dad" I said. "What's wrong with the world today?"

"Everything and everything. The easier question would be what's right with the world. Now that would be easier."

"Oh, I heard there was an airplane crash a few days ago in the Middle East," mom said as she came in through the door wearing the red robe Steve got her last Christmas. "Lots of people died. It's truly so sad. I can't help but think of those families and what they're going through and it's just so sad!"

"Vale, please!" dad interjected. "Enough with the news. Ames, sweetheart, how are you feeling on your first day of college?"

"Umm, like I can't wait for the year to end?" I replied to him as I stuffed the donut into my mouth. I gulped down the coffee as fast as I could so that I wouldn't be late.

"That's the spirit!" dad laughed. Somehow, I could feel mom giving him a disapproving look and probably wondering why, all of a sudden, her sweet little girl wasn't so sweet anymore.

                                                                                  ➹➹➹➷➷➷

My university is about seven blocks away from my house, so I decided to walk. I know what you might be thinking. Who the hell still walks to get places, right? Well, I do. I love the serenity of morning walks, the fact that I'm all alone with my thoughts. I do this thing where I memorize some monologues from my favorite movies and say them in my head over and over and over again on my walks, because if I don't, I might remember what happened all those months ago. If I don't, I might just lose it. And nobody wants to see that, no. People want to see you smile, they don't care if it's fake or forced, because they want to save themselves the trouble of actually considering that you might not be okay, that something terrible must have happened to you, that you might need help. Because how in the world do you transform overnight from a nice girl into someone you don't even recognize?