"Untitled"

This is a story i wrote a few years ago when i first started writing and could probably be improved with the skills i've gained since then, but i figured if i was going to share my work i should start at the beginning. This is only the first chapter, and so it doesn't really introduce much of the major plot conflict i had originally planned. If you are intrigued enough after reading the first chapter, message me and you can learn what happens next.

CHAPTER ONE

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock. To another day. Another day at Jackson High School . Just another day in the city of St. Louis . I turn my groggy eyes toward my alarm clock and see the flashing red light showing 6:00. Ugh. I hate Mondays. Oh, by the way, my name is Nate Richards. I am 18 years old. My full name is Nathaniel, but my friends like to call me Nate because it's shorter. I've lived in St. Louis all of my life with my mom and dad and little brother. As far as families go, mine actually isn't too terrible. My dad's name is George and he works as a financial assistant in a bank. Not the most exciting job in the world, but it pays the bills. My mom's name is Diane and she's a stay-at-home mom most of the time, but every now and then she gets the crazy idea to try and run a home business, and let me tell you, it never ends well. My little brother was named Douglas by my parents, but I insist on calling him Doug because I pity the fact that my parents were dumb enough to name their son Douglas. He is in sixth grade and is a bit of a nerd. He spends the majority of his time reading comic books and thinking up ways to get me in trouble. So all in all, it's a pretty normal family.

I swing my legs around to the end of my bed, turn on my light, and examine my room. I must say that I'm very proud of my room. It is the epitome of a teenage boy's room. You've got your pile of laundry in one corner (whether or not its clean or dirty, I can't tell), a computer at a desk right next to my old, dusty punching bag that I never even took out of the plastic wrapping. My bed is to the side of the door with my little table that I hold my alarm clock and out-of-date stereo system. And last but not least, on the walls are a poster of my latest favorite band, and not to mention, those posters that a teenage boy shouldn't have but does anyway. I don't have to worry about my mom finding out about these poster because after I had a couple of those phases that teenagers have, my mom decided to never go into my room again.

I pull on a pair of blue jeans that I'm pretty sure are clean, and then throw on a black T-shirt with a red skull in the center. I look into the mirror on my door just like any other teenager would and examine myself. If I were to describe what I saw, I would have to say that I'm not to bad looking. I have blonde hair that is always messed up, but it is a look that I manage to pull off. I'm tall and lean with blue eyes. I am not bulked up on muscles like those guys at the gym who have no life; instead, I take on a more wiry look. Tall and lean, but also strong. I got lucky and had all my bad acne in middle school and now in High School, I have a face with clear skin. Satisfied with the way I look, I head downstairs.

I run down the stairs from the attic. Yeah, I know, my rooms and attic, but at least it's mine and mine alone. I stop at the second floor landing and knock loudly on my brother's door. I scream at him, "Wake up Doug!" I listen at the door for the reply I know is coming.

He screams intending to shut me up and make me go away, but in mid-scream, his voice cracks. "Shut up and let me sleep! He yells. I almost fall down the stairs I'm laughing so hard. My brother hit puberty. This is every big brothers dream, to be able to mock his little brother for years. I race down the stairs, my usual bad Monday morning mood just turned happy.

"Mom!" I yell. "Your little Douglas has finally hit puberty!" This is what I was looking forward to. Now when my brother came downstairs, my mom would be all over him. I waited five minutes, watching the joy on my mothers face. Finally, Doug trudged his way downstairs, and was suddenly embraced by a hug from good old mom.