A New Beginning

Bad News

Fifteen-year-old Shane Peterson burst in the front door of his house with his duffel bag in one hand. He wore his usual backwards cap on his head, with strands of his black hair peeking out from underneath. The dark circles under his grey-blue eyes indicated a lack of sleep, being that he had just come home from an overnight stay at his friend's house just across the street.

"Hello, Shane. How was your night at Jordan's?" his mom, Sheila Peterson, asked as she entered the living room with a dishtowel in her hand. Her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair reached down past her shoulders and her blue eyes readily complemented her look.

"Good," Shane replied bluntly, throwing his duffel bag on the entryway floor. Being a teenager with a fast metabolism, the only thing on his mind right now was food. Not bothering to take off his shoes, he trudged across the living room to the kitchen. Flinging the refrigerator door wide open, he looked for something to eat as his stomach rumbled noisily.

"Shane," Mrs. Peterson said sternly, glancing down at the tracks on the carpet. "How many times have I told you to take off your shoes before coming inside? Now you have tracks all over my

rug."

"Sorry," Shane replied, rolling his eyes. Slamming the fridge door shut, he retraced his steps back into the entryway and kicked off his shoes.

"Well, that's what you say to me every time, but you never do anything about it," Mrs. Peterson sighed. "Get the carpet cleaner from under the sink and clean up your mess."

Shane sighed loudly. "Are you being serious right now?" he whined. After being up all night at Jordan's house, he felt fairly irritable and didn't want to be bossed around.

"Yes, I'm serious," Mrs. Peterson retorted. "Now go, before I get your father involved!"

Shane rolled his eyes as he trudged over to the kitchen sink. The last thing he felt like dealing with right now was his dad. Ever since he was a little kid, he felt that his dad always had it out for him. When he and his siblings would get into an arguement, Shane was always the one who got into trouble because of it. Mr. Peterson would never fail to use hurtful words towards Shane either, which made him feel even more resentful towards his father.

Maybe Mr. Peterson secretly hated Shane because he wasn't his biological son. Before she met Mr. Peterson, Shane's mom was with another man for a couple years, with whom she had conceived Shane. Unfortunately, when Shane was only two years old, the guy had run off with another woman in the middle of the night after cutting off all contact with his mother, and was nowhere to be found.

After cleaning up the tracks on the floor, Shane shook his head to clear the thoughts from his head and settled himself on the couch. In his lap was a bag of chips, and he crunched on them contentedly as he pointed the remote at the TV and flicked through the channels, searching for something to watch.

Not finding anything good on TV, Shane kicked up his feet, took his cap off, and lay his head on the armrest of the couch. After placing his cap over his face, he folded his arms across his chest and closed his tired eyes. He was finally starting to feel the exhaustion sink in.

The sound of the front door opening signaled that Shane's little siblings were coming in from outside. He had no choice but to listen to their chattering as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Why, hello, kids!" Mrs. Peterson's voice greeted them. "How was your bike ride?"

"Hi, Mom," thirteen-year-old Heidi replied. "Our bike ride was good, except that it's sooo hot out there!" There was a pause. From the living room couch, Shane guessed that his sister was looking for her afternoon snack.