This chapter holds 8 pages, 70 paragrahgs, and 4,003 words.


Chapter 1

It was morning in the little town of Burgess. Freshly fallen snow lay across the ground like a crystalized blanket. Icicles dangled off the trees and buildings, shinning a faint orange color in the morning light.

In a house next to the dirt path that led to the town's lake, was a family. There lived four boys, a girl, and a mother. It was peaceful in the house, but not for long. Blue alarm clock beeped telling someone it was time to get up. A hand reached from under a soft blanket with a wolf howling in the snowy night sky. The hand searched over the alarm clock trying to find the snooze button. Finally finding it, the fingers gently pressed the snooze button then retreated back under the covers. Then the person snuggled up under her blanket again to go back to sleep.

As if knowing this, a German Shepard huffed then rose to a sitting position then scratched himself for a few moments. He rose to his paws, stretching then made his way toward the bed. He nudged the person where the arm was to be.

The person moved and tried to push the snout away; but did not sit up, nor look at the dog. "Five more minutes," was all the person said in a tired voice.

The Shepard did not like the response and persisted on nudging the person again. The person groaned a reply. "Alright, alright. I am up, bud." The person stretched on her back. This let the dog know that she actually getting out of bed. He hopped down and waited.

The person looks to the blue alarm clock to see it was 5:35 AM. They groaned again, pulling away the covers and sat up slowly. There sat a fifteen year old girl with messy brown hair. She roughly brushed back her hair to reveal steal-blue eyes. She looked awful. "Another bad night of sleeping," she mumbled tired, yawning and stretching again. She never could get to sleep till around two in the morning, which was the time she passes out, but even then she gets nightmares. This has been happening for about a week now, and she could not figure out why.

She brought her legs over the bed, placing her feet on the carpeted flooring. It was really soft to her feet. She stood up then made her way to her closet which was to the left of her bed. The doors were white, standing out against the baby blue walls. She picked out a few clothes that seemed to match for her. A baby blue shirt decorated with little blue gems. Then grabbed out some dark jeans. She changed from her golden nightgown, tossing it onto the bed, them putting on the picked out clothes.

Once dressed, she left her room to go to the bathroom. She was thankful for the peaceful morning right now. She entered the bathroom doing her morning business, then freshening up by brushing her teeth and hair. Her hair brush was designed for people with fragile hair, which was what she had. In fact, she gets easy bruises without even noticing how she gets them.

She got back to her room to make sure she packed up for what she needed. She still had to go to school after all. She will not graduate for another four three years. She left her backpack on her bed. The dog laying down, but he watched her the best he could with only his eyes.

The peace did not last for long. Her four obnoxious older brothers were awake and making a ruckus right now. They made thumping sounds as they ran around the house and rough housed with one another. This was a typical morning the girl had to deal with.

The girl left the room, careful no to get bumped into by one of the boys. She made her way down stairs, only to get pushed out of the way by all four as they half ran half jumped down the stairs. This caused the girl to stumble, make a miss step, and slid down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she hissed with pain. The dog had just finished climbing down the stairs when he noticed the girl on the ground. He walked up to her, licking her cheek, trying to comfort her. "Thanks, Rusty," she thanked the dog, Rusty. He was the family's dog, but the girl's loyal best friend. He follows her almost everywhere he was allowed to.

She looked over herself to see she had no broken bones, but she was definitely getting blue bruises by tomorrow. "I-I think I am fine," she reassured the dog, looking at him. She gently pets him to show she was fine then slowly stands up again. Yep, definitely getting bruises tomorrow.

She walks into the kitchen which was through an archway, hurt and still tired only to be greeted by her mother. "Morning, Chelsey," she greets her daughter as she cooked something in a pan on the new electric oven. Her mother had the same brown hair and blue eyes like the girl.

Chelsey did not look at her mother when she responded, "Morning, mother." She looks over in to see her brothers were scarfing down their food like a bunch of pigs. She watched them in digust.

Her mother then notices that Rusty was beside Chelsey. "You and that dog," she began, pointing the wooden spatula at her daughter. "One of these days, you will not have him."

She nods tiredly, and solemnly at the thought of not having her best friend around anymore. "I-I know, mother," she tells her. "As long as he is alive, I will always be happy to have him. He is a good dog… a-and I do not want to lose him for any stupid reasons."

"Well," her mother did not seem to know what to say. "There is breakfast on the table." She points to the table where all the food was already on the boy's plates.

From oldest to youngest, there was Jacob who was eighteen. He had messy hair, which he always seemed to like as his style. His eyes were the same steel-blue. For being the oldest, he also the biggest jerk toward her. He always goes about saying how superior he was and she has to listen to him. Chelsey hated that from him; but he did helped her that one time. He had stopped a bully from picking on her. His words were, "No one picks on my sister unless it is me." That was somewhat motivational to her. So he was not always a jerk. He has his moments where he could be helpful if he wanted to.

The second oldest were a set of twins, Phillip and Carl. Both of the, were seventeen. They had brown hair and brown eyes. The brown eyes comes from their father who had black hair and brown eyes. They get into quite a lot of trouble; but they did not seem to mind for they keep up their attitude. They always were the ones who pulled pranks on everyone, especially Chelsey. They really do not care whether she was happy or not, just as long as they were amused.

And lastly was John who was only 10 months younger than the twins. He was the only one who had black hair and brown eyes. He looked a lot like their father. He disliked his brothers, but seemed okay with Chelsey. When not around, or influenced by his other brothers, he liked to hang put with his sister. He even sticks up for her whenever he could, which was usually at school; but when the brothers were involved, John was as ignorant as the other three.

Seeing this, her mother thinks for a moment. "Go upstairs and finish getting ready for school. I will bring a plate upstairs soon," she told Chelsey, who nodded and made her way back to her room; Rusty following loyally.

As she reached her room, she almost closed the door on Rusty. He was just quick enough to slip through before any harm came to him. She realized she had forgotten to turn off the alarm clock, which was beeping now. Must have been already nine minutes. Shrugging it off, she goes and turns it off, making sure it was actually off this time. "Why do they need to be so mean?" She fumed, thinking about how they always did stuff like this to her. They took all the food, not even thinking about her. "They always do this!" She looks for her shoes to put on later. "They always do the opposite of what I ask them to. Not thinking about how I feel!" Rusty simply sat next to her bed, watching her fume about her brothers.

Before she could go on about how horrible her brothers were, she heard knocking at her door. The knob turned slowly and opened. Her mother peeked around the door to see Chelsey angrily sitting on her bed. "Hey," her mother speaks calmly, stepping into the room with a plate of pancakes in her hand. "Here is some breakfast," she tries to hand the plate to her, but Chelsey seemed to refuse to take it. Her mother decides to place them on her nightstand instead. Chelsey did not make eye contact with her mother, only looked toward the pancakes. There were six of them with her favorite boysenberry syrup smothered over them. "What is the matter?" Her mother asks, sitting next to her daughter on the bed. Chelsey did not seem to respond. "If you do not tell me what is wrong, I cannot help you."

"If you want to help me," Chelsey began, sounding irritated, "the get rid of those hooligans."

"What is wrong with your brothers?" Her mother asks, with a hint of a stern tone. She was also curious.

"They are slobs, they do not listen to me, and they take things that are mine," she list complaints. "And those are only a few things they do to me."

"They are only being boys," her mother soothed. "Besides, if they were not around, they can not help you if you get yourself in a pickle."

"They will not help me," Chelsey spoke sternly. "If I get into trouble, they will turn their backs and ket it happen."

Not wanting to deal with her daughter's complaints anymore, sighed and got up. "At least eat you breakfast and finish up getting ready for school," she makes her way to the door. She looks back to Chelsey, who was still not making eye contact. Sighing again, she leaves the room, closing the door behind her. "Ten minutes, boys!" She heard her mother call out. "If you all are not ready by then, I am driving off, and leaving you all behind to walk." Chelsey could hear her mother's footsteps fade away till it was out of earshot.

Chelsey sighed heavily, more a relief that her mother stopped pestering her about her problems with her brothers. She examined her pancakes again, but did not dare touch them. Instead, she put on her socks and shoe, and made sure she had everything. They were white tennis shoes, which stuck out like a sore thumb from her clothing. When she finished tying her shoes, she looked over to the pancakes. She really did not want to eat them, but she still moved over to the plate. Ripping off pieces from the pancake, she tossed them to Rusty who went after the pieces eagerly by catching them skillfully. He really loved pancakes, especially the ones that Chelsey always tossed to him.

Ten minutes passed, and Chelsey had decided to eat only a bit of her pancakes since she remembered how long she was going to be stuck in school with food for. "Time for school!" Her mother calls as Chelsey puts another bite in her mouth.

She left her plate on the nightstand. Swallowing what she had in her mouth, she mumbled under her breathe angrily, "Great~ school." She got to her feet then turned to get her backpack, swinging it over her shoulder. It was a black backpack with silver flames decorating it. Exiting the room, Rusty followed her. "Rusty, stay," she commanded the Shepard at the garage door. Rusty lowered his head, but stayed where he was.

As she exited into the garage, she noticed the boys were not there yet. Her mother was in the car, ready to leave. The engine was on, warming the cold engine. Chelsey had forgotten it was cold outside as she walked toward the car. Without warning, the boys slammed open the doors and ran through, passing their sister along the way.

"Shot gun!" John cried out as he reached the front passenger seat of the van first. He quickly hops into the car.

"You always get to sit in the front!" Phillip complained angrily, crawling into the middle section of the van.

Carl joined his twin in the middle of the van as well. "Let someone else get a chance," He too complained.

"Like me!" Jacob smiled, pointing with his thumb to his chest proudly.

Phillip glared at Jacob. "Why do you think you can get the front?" He accused his brother.

Jacob did not look pleased at the thought of being challenged by his younger brother. "Because I am the oldest," he told them with a faint growl to his tone. "That give me every right."

"Be quiet and get in the car car!" Their mother calls out angrily. "Jacob will get the front this time." She fixed the problems for them. The boys grumbled angrily as John and Jacob switched spots. "And stop grumbling!" her mother sounded very stern right now. The boys did not say another word.

As she pass the van, she gave Jacob a death glare. 'I wanted the front,' Chelsey thought angrily to her ignorant brother.

"Sorry, nerd," Jacob said with a smirk. He points to the back of the car. "Hop in the back, mom already said I could have this seat."

Without saying anything, she made her way to the back seat; and the far back ones at that, for the twins already took the middle. John joined her in the back seats. Everyone buckled up after they were all settled in their seats. Their backpacks on their laps.

Her mother set the emergency breaks off so the car started to roll backwards in reverse, exiting the garage. The car stopped just outside the garage so her mother could close it. When it fully closed, she finished backing the car out to the streets, then drove off toward the school they all were attending.

Chelsey looked out the window, watching the snow covered grounds and trying to spot all the differently shaped icicles. When will I get shotgun? She thought to herself. She could imagine her brother's reply, "Never, geek!" She quietly inhaled and exhaled sharply, fog covered the window of the car. It is not my fault I am slow for everything, she miserably thought, making her feel worse than she already was. As she stared out the window, she thought how great life could be with no brother, and a less strict mother. I would just be her mother, Rusty, and her. That sounded like a good life to her.

Do not think like that, she heard an unfamiliar voice say. She looks around the van for the source. It sounded like the person was right next to her. You will regret that wish.

Just as she was about to ask who had asked who it was, a wad of paper was tossed at her head. She snapped her attention toward her brothers. She knew it could not have been John. The paper had come from the front of the car; but how could she not figure it out? The boys were snickering. She glared at them angrily. She did not dare say anything, though. Her mother obviously had not noticed their actions, or she would have spoken up about it. Chelsey decided to look out the window again, thinking of the voice who had just spoke to her.

( Linebreak)

The van came to a stop in front of their high school. The boys hopped out of the van, one by one. As soon as John left the van, he slammed the door shut on Chelsey. "Hey!" She cried out angrily. That actually scared her thinking she was going to get injured from his actions. The boys laughed as they ran into the school building. Shaking the horrod thoughts from her head, she slid open the door again.

Before she could fully exit the van, she heard her mother say, "Have a good day at school, and the boys will be punished for that action." It sounded like her mother was trying to reassure her. She simply nods and closes the door.

Chelsey looked over the school's building. This was not her favorite place to be. Most students seem to pick on her for no reason at all. They call her nerd and geek. Her thoughts of all the times of being bullied came back, causing her to shiver. It was always thanks to John that he was able to help with what he can. Even if that meant him ending up in fights just to defend her.

She enters the building, doing her best not to get noticed as she makes her way to her first period class. A boy noticed her and tosses a wad of paper at her, trying to get her attention. Chelsey ignores the student, keeping as calm as she could. "Let's get her!" They cried out, chasing after her, which caused fear to course through her veins and run. With the added speed, she made it to her first class, opening and shutting the door as quickly as she could.

With Chelsey entering the room suddenly caused the teacher to look at her with surprise. "Morning, Chelsey," greeted her teacher, Mr, Cornell. "Why are you in such a rush?"

She was still painting from the run. "G-good m-morning," she tried to catch her breathe. "S-students chased me again." She was straight out with her reasons. Why not? She trusted her teachers, so saying her bullying problems was not hard.

"Again?" He sounded concerned. "They really need to stop. Did you provoke them?" She shakes her head. "Hmm…" he thinks. "Well, since you are here, would you like to help with a new student?" He asks.

Chelsey was skeptical at the thought of helping a new student out, but her response was different. "S-sure," she nods, agreeing to the task.

Mr. Cornell smiles warmly. "Great," he responds happily, "but according to the front office, he might be running late. So he may or may not be showing up to today's class."

"I-I hope he is nocer than the students who already attend here," she felt anxious at the thought of introducing the new student, only to have them backstab her and start acting like the others.

Mr. Cornell thought about that for a moment. "According to what I heard, he should be," he tried to reassure her, which was what he always tried to do.

She was half relieved to know she was not going to help them out at the moment. "I understand," she nods as she turned to take her seat, which was actually right next to the teacher. The students always seemed to pick on her when he was not looking, so he had thought the best way to make sure she was alright and able to focus was sitting right next to his desk with him.

"Also," he piped up again as she was getting comfortable and ready for class to start, "he does not seem to be able to speak, so you will need patients to understand him."

'Wait… did he does say him?' Chelsey felt her stomach flip at the though, but then thought of him being mute. Kids might pick on him with that disability. Now that made her feel ill about the thought of someone picking on the poor student just because he could not speak. "Of course. I will do my best to be alert to what he wants to say." Maybe this student actually will be nice. If he cannot physically speak then he might have as much difficulty with this school as she was.

"That is what I like to hear," he smiles at her. "Glad to have a good student to have in my class." Well, that did make her happy. That was, until the bell rang and kids began to rush into the classroom.

Five minutes later, the final bell rang and the students finished taking their seats. "Now, we will have seating arrangements tomorrow, for we have a new student who will be joining us," he began class. "For now, let us do role call." He skimmed through the role call, calling out student's names. This time, there was two students who had not been able to join the class. "Alright," he set his roll call papers aside, "let us begin, shall we?" He stood up, handing Chelsey half a stack of paper, pointing to one half of the classroom. She nods and the two hands out pieces of paper. "Now, these worksheets must be turned in by the end of class," instructs as he passes out the papers.

Once the papers were handed out, Chelsey gave the rest of them to Mr. Cornell. He took the papers, thanking her for the help. The two returned to their desks. Chelsey sat there, working on the sheet that everyone else was working on as well. She may be sitting next to the teacher, but that gave her no excuse from doing the work like everyone else was.

( linebreak)

Near the end of the class period, Mr Cornell got Chelsey's attention. "Chesley," he whispers so the others could work.

She almost lost with what she was doing since she had got caught off guard. "Y-yes?" she stutters her response, looking at the teacher.

"The front office has just called," he told her. Chelsey noticed there were some students who were listening in, which caused her to feel anxious. "They said the new student is waiting there. Can you please bring him back…" he looks at the clock. "Matter of fact, just give him a tour till the next class."

Chelsey nods and packs her things. "What about this?" She shows the worksheet.

"Take it home to work on it," he smiles. "You have an excuse."

She gives a faint smile then puts the paper in her bag. She gets up, says her farewell to Mr. Cornell, then heads out the door to meet up with the new student. 'I wonder what he will look like?' She thought to herself. She thought of all the ways he could possibly be cute.'Maybe tall with same brown hair and blue eyes?' Her thoughts went wild with imagination.

Due to her being too deep in her own thoughts, she had not payed attention to where she was walking. This caused her to accidentally bump into someone. The two fell backwards, and Chelsey's vision unfocused for a moment. She had no clue why she suddenly had blurry sight. This caused it to be difficult to see who she had bumped into. "I-I am s-so sorry!" She was expecting the person to throw a punch at her, but it never came. She saw a hand reach out toward her, causing her to flinch. The hand withdrew itself toward the owner. Her vision slowly focused again, and looked to see who it was, only to become shocked at their sight.

( Posted: January 14, 2017 at 6:14 PM Pacific Time )