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Prologue
As I lay here, staring up at the bright blue sky, my thoughts wander. They fly and float around me; swirling, jumping, and dancing in a way that can only be described as beautiful. The clouds are still, there is no wind. The temperature is perfect; not too hot, not too cold. I hear his steady breathing, soft and musical, next to me. I feel at peace. Just enough so, that I can close my eyes and sleep without worrying about nightmares. It's as if nothing ever went wrong last spring. It's just him and I. Two halves of a soul, joined by God. Together, we can do anything.
Chapter One
Beep beep! Beep beep! Beep beep! My alarm clock is going of at full volume. I roll over in bed, and scramble to find the button to shut it off. When my fingers finally hit the button, they also clumsily knock a glass of water off my night table. Great, I think, just how I wanted to start my day. Fighting the urge to scream, I get out of bed and hurry to grab a towel so I can wipe up the spill. I bend over, cleaning it up, when I hear my brother call my name. "Neveah! Get down here! You're already late for schooll!" He's using his I'm-Your-Guardian-So-Do-What-I-Say voice. He only uses it when I'm either running late for school, or if I don't finish the dishes.
In general, Jason is a pretty cool brother. With him being 23, and I being 16, he was assigned to be my guardian 6 months ago when our parents were killed by a drunk driver. I know he loves me, and that he feels responsible for me, but sometimes I wish he would just let me be. "I'm coming, just let me get dressed and brush my teeth!" I yelled down to him, getting off my knees and running to my closet. I grabbed a black t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and my panda hoodie. A quick glance in the mirror revealed dark shadows under my eyes, but I leave them alone. I'm not looking to impress anyone. I hurry to the bathroom that connects to my bedroom, brush my teeth and run downstairs. Jason hands me a paper bag with what I'm assuming is my lunch, and a crisp five dollar bill. We put our shoes on and grab our keys, heading together to the garage to our cars.
I have a vintage black mustang. Jason drives a large blue pickup truck with a license plate that reads J450N. Clever huh? Yeah, I thought so too at first. Then, mom and dad died, and its just another thing on my super long list of annoying things in life. "Have a good first day Vee," he says, getting in the truck, "I'll be home by 5 and we can have dinner together." He closes the door and pulls out of the garage, backing down the long winding driveway. I force myself not to look at the big pile of metal hiding under a clean white sheet next to my parked car. The mechanics said it's totaled, and there's no point in keeping it. The pale blue Volkswagen bug. My mother's car. I begged Jason to bring it back from the junkyard, and after 3 days of my relentless nagging, he gave in and called the junkyard. They had it towed over to our house within the next hour. I bite my lip, trying to hold back fresh tears. Remembering hurts. I have to push the memory out of my head. I take a deep breath and slowly back out of the driveway, to the street. My school is about a 15 minute drive. It's affiliated with the local baptist church. I don't want to go to a Christian school, but when Jason and I moved, he gave me no choice but to go back to school at the semester change. By "back to school", I mean start a new school. Well as long as they don't have a problem with me being atheist.. Right. Who am I kidding? Church people are so judgmental, it's ridiculous.
The drive is easy going, and there isn't any traffic. I get to Grace Christian Preparatory High School just before the gates close. I had a tour of this place over the summer, once things were starting to get settled at home - the school has classes all year long! It was intimidating then, and it's intimidating now. I find a spot among the shiny black and silver cars. There is only one red car. It stands out. Of course, that's also where the only available parking spot is. In the very back of the lot. I pull in next to it, turn the engine off, grab my bag and brace myself. Time to go through hell . . .
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