AN: Hey there! Thanks for reading! Although... you technically haven't read anything yet...
No matter!
Just a heads up that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, so please review and let me know what you think!
I'm not sure exactly where I plan on taking this story or how often I will update, only time will tell.
Disclaimer: I own no rights Transformers or any characters except my OCs. Any similarities between my plot-line/OCs and that of another author is coincidental.
Enjoy!
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"Hey dude," my sister says casually in gretting as she walks through the back door of our house.
I pop up from behind the counter, temporary abandoning my search for a pot to boil water in, only to be greeted with the sight of my sister's smiling face.
"Hi sis!" I exclaim dramatically overexcited in our usual banterous greetings. We never call each other by our names; I'm always 'dude' or 'kid' and she's always 'sis' or 'woman'. For us, such titles are terms of endearment and we'd have it no other way.
"Did you miss me?" She rolls her hazel eyes good naturedly and agrees reluctantly because she knows I know she missed me, no matter how unlikely that might seem to an outsider. I shuffle around the kitchen counter with a look of mischief on my face and squish her in a hug to which she dramatically groans and sounds as if I were crushing her to death. Once I release her from my grasp, she pats me on the head as one would a puppy and sets the grocery bag I hadn't noticed she'd been carrying on the counter.
"Have you boiled the water yet?" She asks giving me one of her famous why-am-I-not-surprised-looks, just because she already knows the answer having seen the lack of a pot on the stove when she walked in. She is more than used to me being forgetful and waiting utill the last moment to do just about anything, but that doesn't stop her from giving me a bad time about it.
"I was literally just getting the pot out when you walked through the door. Promise!"
"I told you I'd be home soon twenty minutes ago," she chides back, sounding very much like a mother exasperated with her child. I grumble indignantly but don't respond knowing I wouldn't win an argument anyways, no matter how good natured it was, and considering she was right. I was supposed to have water boiled by the time she got home from the grocery store so we could make dinner, but of course I got sidetracked and only bolted into the kitchen once I saw her white Ford Explorer pull up to the house. As the culinary masterminds that we are, we decided on a simple dish of crescent shaped wheat noodles garnished with a creamy cheddar sauce, or more commonly known as mac 'n' cheese, for dinner tonight.
I finish what I had started and fill a medium sauce pan half way with water and set it on the burner to boil while my sister unpacks the contents of the grocery bag she brought home: boxed mac n cheese, a gallon of milk, raspberry jelly, and crackers. Normally our dad does the grocery shopping but he's visiting his parents in Iowa since his dad, our grandfather, had recently been diagnosed with bladder cancer, so my sister and I have the house to ourselves for the time being as responsible twenty-one and eighteen year olds.
"You going to Jake's later?" I ask already having a response in mind, but asking anyway.
"Yeah, I'm going to his house after we eat. We wanted to watch a movie tonight."
"Sounds good. Just remind him that he's a loser," I wink one of my blue eyes at my sister, hinting at the running joke between her fiancée and I. The two of us get along but we both like to tease, harass, and annoy one another for fun- he's like the older brother I never had.
"Uh huh," my sister agrees as usual to one of my comments. Seeing as how the water is boiling and the groceries are unpacked, my sister makes her way towards her bedroom, probably to change into more comfortable clothes (usually pajamas) as she usually does when she gets home.
No sooner had she walked three feet towards her bedroom when the whole house shakes underfoot, making both of us lose our footing. Thinking it was an earthquake as they are quite common in Southern California, especially considering that we live only a few miles away from the San Andreas fault line, I make my way towards my sister, brushing my shoulder length light brown hair out of my face where it had fallen when the quaking make me stumble.
We glance at each other with the same idea in mind: stand under the doorway. Grasping the doorframe of the bathroom that separates our bedrooms just outside the kitchen, my sister stands unsteadily due to the relentless shaking and attempts to pull me to my feet, a frazzled look in both out eyes; we've never experienced an earthquake of this magnitude and length before, it is quite unsettling. The rattling of objects throughout the house becomes accompanied by the thuds of books falling from their places on the baker's rack and the smash of picture frames as glass shatters on the tile floor, their places on the walls or shelves forgotten and barren.
I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to drown out the chaos, but that does little to make me feel better and even less in making the scenario better. In a futile attempt to comfort me, or perhaps herself (or both), my sister reaches for one of my hands and holds it in hers as if it is the only thing in the house that will not fall or break as a result of the quaking.
With a mighty bang, the floor feels as if it is swept from underneath us as everything goes black.
