This Means War

This Means War Chapter 2

Pic of Rair (Keke Palmer) >>>>>>>>> 

Rair POV

“Wake up!”

“Come on, Rair! Get up!”

“Rair!”

I heard voices screaming at me and I covered my ears with my pillow.

My own personal alarm clock, great…not.

“Five more minutes!” I yelled at my foster siblings.

“No! I want pancakes!” My younger sister Kady replied in her squeaky, little, diva voice.

I groaned as I felt about five kids jumping on my back to wake me up. As I turned over in my bed, I heard screams and then a loud THUMP!

I opened my eyes slowly and took in my plain room. It had gray walls and had two other beds that were shared by two girls each. I share a bed with my fourteen year old foster sister, Clare. The boys and girls slept in separate rooms.

“Why are you all on the floor?” I asked when I saw all of my foster sisters on the floor around my bed.

Sophia, my twelve year old sister, gave me a duh look. “You just threw us off of your back!” She tossed her brown, tight curls over her shoulder.

Oh yeah… “Sorry.” I got out of bed and stepped over the little girls so I could go brush my teeth. “What do you all want for breakfast?” I asked them on my way to the bathroom.

We had three bathrooms in the house; one for the girls, one for the boys, and one for my foster mother, Julia. None of them were attached our rooms though, except for Julia’s bathroom. Ours was small; a toilet, sink, and bathtub all squished up. Julia’s bathroom was bigger with a bathtub and a shower separate. She also had two sinks. I thought it was unnecessary, but she was convinced that she’ll get married some day. I’d only been in there once because she gave anyone who came into her room the paddle.

“Scrambled eggs!”

“PANCAKES!”

“Biscuits!”

“Cereal!” They replied.

“Is that it?” I asked, trying to remember what everyone wanted.

“I want Eggs Benedict with hollandaise sauce and some Canadian bacon.” Clare said.

I laughed so hard my tooth brush fell out of my mouth. “Who do I look like? Betty Crocker?”

Clare furrowed her waxed eyebrows and frowned. “Fine, I’ll just have an omelet then, lazy.” She mumbled.

“What orphanage did you come from?” I shook my head. The things I do for these kids! I walked into the kitchen, immediately being hit by the smell of wonderful food.

“Good morning, Mike.” I greeted my older foster brother. He must have been making breakfast for the boys. I walked over to him and he wrapped me in a tight hug, him being pretty buff.

“Good morning, Rair. You can just tell me what everyone wants and I’ll make it.” He could be so nice sometimes! “You look pretty tired and I’d rather you not burn down the house.” He smirked.

Never mind.

“Cereal, scrambled eggs, biscuits, and an omelet.”

“You’re not going to eat anything?” He asked me.

“No, I’m fine. You eat enough for the both of us anyways.” I laughed and ran up the stairs to take a shower, but not before seeing the dumbfound look on his face. I wasn’t lying though. Boys eat way too much.