Two Months

In two sweet months, I’d be nineteen. That’s the age my father deemed appropriate to live on my own. Personally I think they just didn’t want Bree  alone till she was twenty five. I was ready to move out too. I had a place to live, someone to help pay for the bills and such and good friends to enjoy my new house with.

I already started packing too. I wasn’t insane; I just packed the small stuff I wouldn’t need anyway. My walls are mostly blank. I took down all my pictures of nature and all I had left were a few of me. I’d take those off tomorrow then start on under my bed. Lord knows the second something slips under there it’s never to be seen again. Hopefully by my birthday I’d be packed and ready to go.

Financially, I was set for life. I had a nice job, then someone got jealous so now I work for my family caring for the garden for twice what I was making working at the other place. The hours were great too, anytime the sun was up I could show up for work.  I had to be done by dark, but that wasn’t hard.

SO with finances not being a problem to try and figure out, I had a lot of free time on my hands. I use that time to read. I’ve probably read every good book in this town’s pathetic library. I mean sure they upgraded semi recently but the fact of the matter is my choices sucked. Thank the Lord that Corpus was just across the bride and a Barnes and Noble was only a ten to fifteen minute drive.

Bree calls me lazy sleeping till ten. Little does she know that I only get four hours of sleep on a good day. And these four hours aren’t after relaxing all day, no normally it’s after im extremely active. Running up and down stairs, moving furniture, transferring things from place to place, shopping, cooking, fighting, and all sorts of sports. This is pretty much what I do from midnight to six in the morning.

Except tonight, tonight someone is very late I have to deal though. At least I got further into my book. That’s always a plus. Too bad I was really looking forward to hanging out at the Treehill place tonight.

“How was your night?” Says a voice calm as an autumn night. How could you not answer that voice?

“Fine” I say trying to be nonchalant.

The End

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