The rest of Sunday passes by without much of a problem; just a lot of homework and tv. Before I know it, it's Monday morning and my alarm is going off at the set time of 6:30 AM.
"I don't wanna go to school," I grumble to myself. Forcing myself out of bed, I pull back my blankets and wince at the cold air.
"Mornin' Mills," Raven calls as she crosses the hallway to the bathroom. I nod a response to her, even though I know she won't be able to see it, suspecting that she's going to get a shower. I don't question it, though. Instead, I cross over my room to my closet and flick on the light.
"Need some help picking out clothes for the first day?" A voice asks, causing me to jump. To my surprise, when I turn to look at who it is, I find myself staring at my mother. It's been so long since she's talked to me in a normal voice that I've forgotten how she sounded.
"N-no," I mumble nervously. "I'm fine..."
"You don't look fine. Just let me help you," she insists, staring desperately at me. I wonder if this is her version of an apology; if it is, I don't like it much. I know how my mum's "apologies" go. It means she acts nice for 20 minutes and then shoots you down with another insult.
"No," I repeat, firmly this time. Her blue eyes glint with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment.
"Fine then. At least I made a damn attempt," she hisses, her usual angry tone returning. Before I can spit out a retort, she turns and walks out of my room. I stand motionless in front of my closet, listening to the heavy thumps of her feet as she stomps back down the stairs.
"Good going, mum. I've been awake for less than ten minutes and you've already screwed up my day," I mutter quietly to myself. Thankfully, nobody hears the comment except me.