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Player's Roomate

It was hot at my parent’s funeral. That’s all I remember. Wait…let me rephrase that. That’s all I wanted to remember. I was itching at my skin the whole ceremony, sweat rolled down my legs as I stood awkwardly around my sparse, nameless relatives. Everyone around me had tears streaking down their faces, smearing makeup and dripping onto the ground. Everyone except for me. As much as I had wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Nothing would come out. I guess I should explain some things. My name is Emma Hark. I’m sixteen. I live in a small, unknown town buried deep in Washington. It’s nice and peaceful, which I like; big cities just aren’t my thing. I’m an only child, sadly. I’d always wanted a little brother or sister, but all I got was a snooty cat. I had two loving parents, but of course, they died. It was a car accident that did the job. I guess I had it coming, as luck seems to dodge me. After my parents, that was it for my family. Everyone had already passed away. I was the last Hark. There was no crazy, hair-brained aunt twice removed or some foreign uncle. I was it. And before you start thinking I’m off to a dirty, old foster home in foggy London, you’re wrong. Why would I tell you about that? No, I’m here to tell you about the Stephens family. The rich-beyond-imagination, well-known, high class, involved, loving, entertaining Stephens family. The only family who would actually take me in. Don’t ask me how my parents even knew these god-like people. We were so below them. But in the well-planned will of my parents, it stated, “Emma Lucille Hark is to move in and live with the parents of Henry and Michelle Stephens”. As the old, bearded man from the funeral home read this aloud to me, my mouth dropped and I asked him to repeat that sentence at least four more times. I couldn’t believe it! But right after the service, I spotted the infamous black Escalade roll up to the funeral home and out came Michelle Stephens. She was primped to perfection and a touch of sadness tainted her expression. When she saw me, the pulled me into a tight, very awkward hug. I felt like a poor, scrappy peasant next to her. She said some soothing words, signed some papers, gave a few smiles, and soon I was buckled in to the passenger seat of her toasty, elegant car. “Don’t worry, Emma. Everything’s going to be all right. We’re just going to go back to your house and you can gather up some of your things. I’ve already got your room ready and everything! Oh boy, I can’t wait to see what it’s like to have a daughter.” And off she went, rambling about bras and flowers and pink things. I was sharply reminded of the fact that she only has boys. Two boys, to be exact. The youngest was Charlie, a moppy-headed cute kid who had a bit of a smart mouth. But it didn’t matter, as he was only in 4th grade. And then there was Ricky. His full name was Roderick, but everyone just called him Ricky. Tall, dark, and handsome; a perfect description of him. He was A-team, popular, gorgeous, and a senior. As a lanky, awkward sophomore, I heard a lot about him. All the underclassmen girls obsessed over him. The few friends I had basically worshipped Ricky. But, the spell he put on all the girls just didn’t reach out to me. I didn’t see it. But as I got closer to my new house, I could feel my stomach begin to bunch up. Suddenly, I realized. I was going to be roommates with him.

DaoistRfkRrt · Livros e literatura
Classificações insuficientes
2 Chs

Chapter Two: It's Pink!

 You know that feeling when you wake up and for a few seconds, you have no idea where you are? Well, when I finally woke up, I couldn't seem to figure out where I was. Was I dreaming? No, I was awake. My head was throbbing with pain and my body felt heavy. Was I back in my old room with Mom and Dad? Wrong again. I had no idea where I was. The room I was in was completely foreign to me. I gently rubbed my hands and felt smooth, soft sheets underneath me. These weren't my scratchy bed sheets from my old room. I peered around, curious.

 Everything was so pink; it hurt my eyes. The walls were a soft cherry colour and the carpet was a bleached white. The furniture was colour-coordinated to match the paint. I could see a white desk with my Mac laptop sitting happily on top. A cute lamp desk stood and a cup of pencils stood next to it. A white chest of drawers stood opposite across the room, my suitcase open next to it. Nothing was unpacked yet, so I assumed I was going to have to do that. I saw a hammock-like chair in the farthest corner from me. It looked extremely comfy and would be the best place to read. And in the middle of the room, against the wall, was my bed. If I had to estimate, I would say it was a king. Sheet upon white sheet wrapped around me, with a bright pink duvet to top it all off. I was flanked by at least six fluffy pillows, all plump and cold.

 I exhaled loudly, content. Even though it was loud and vibrant, I liked my new room.

 A soft knock drew my attention to the door. Michelle strolled in, a plate in one hand and a tall drink in the other.

 "Emma!" She smiled. "You're up!"

 Michelle placed the two things on a bedside table and scrambled to my side. "Oh God, I'm so glad you're awake. I was so worried. We all were!"

 And suddenly I remembered. Oh, the horror! My face flushed deeply as I recalled my wipe out.

 Michelle noticed my reddening. "Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. Ricky was able to carry you up to your room and make sure you were all right."

 I couldn't help but gasp. I sat up, my head spinning.

 "So much for a good first impression." I muttered.

 "Here," Michelle said, changing the subject. "I brought you some homemade chicken noodle soup and some orange juice. I-I don't really know what you like, so I kind of guessed. I can get you something else if you don't like it."

 I took the bowl in my hands and took a sip. It tasted wonderful.

 "Mmm, this is good. Did you make this?" I asked her.

 "Oh God no! Luna, our cook, made it. She's wonderful," Michelle exclaimed. "If you ever need anything, just ask her. She can whip up anything!"

 Of course, they had a cook. I bet they also had a butler, maid, and even a gardener.

 "Do you like your room, Emma?" She asked, a hopeful expression on her face. She must've been really proud of it.

 I smiled, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "I love it, Michelle."

 Michelle suddenly pulled me into a tight hug, barely missing the soup in my hand. I awkward wrapped my one free arm around her waist. This was going to take some time to get used to.

 "I'm so glad you're my daughter, Emma. I'll take good care of you." She whispered into my ear. I could hear the sincerity in her words.

 Michelle and I talked a bit more about what I had missed the few hours I was out, which wasn't much. Everyone had retired for the night and she had just come in to give me my dinner. She said I was free to do anything I wanted, but to get a good night's sleep as I'd had a long day. She meant well, but I could see she was nervous. I assured her I'd be fine and she left me alone.

 I finished my soup and gulped down the orange juice. My head had stopped hurting for the most part. The heavy sensation of sleepiness swept over me, but I ignored it, getting out of bed and walking over to my desk. I sat down and turned on my computer.

 As my computer slowly loaded, I peered out the big, clear windows that were in front of my desk. I could see the whole garden from out here and even though it was dark outside, I could make out the many statues that stood around the shrubs and trees. The only garden I had back home was the small flowerbeds my mom and I worked on when I was younger. It was going to be so hard to adjust to this lifestyle.

 After checking a few emails, which were mainly from my teachers and friends filling me in on what I'd missed at school, I opened up Tumblr and started writing a new entry.

  Sorry it's been a while, everyone! I'm just checking up to tell you I haven't committed suicide over the tragic death of my parents. I've been doing all right for an orphaned girl. (: A really nice family has taken me in, who was "apparently" good friends of my parents. It's hard to believe my parents knew millionaires! No joke, guys. These people have money to burn. I'm going to be living the life now! Hahahahaha. I can't wait to tell you how everything goes the next few weeks. The change from barely making it every month with my parents to having everything I want is going to be immense. I can barely describe the awesomeness of my new room. Even though I miss my old life, I'm excited to see what's to expect in this one. Oh! And how can I forget my "new older brother". I totally made a fool of myself in front of him today, but that's too embarrassing to mention on the Internet. I'm about to pass out, so goodnight, everyone! Love, Emma.

 I hit submit and watched as it bobbed to the front of the dashboard. I was broadcasting to over 4,000 followers. I was pretty popular on the Internet, but not so much in real life.

 Suddenly, my entry had a note. I clicked to see what it was. Someone by the name "sensitive-in-secret" had reblogged my entry and attached was a reply from the mysterious follower.

  Glad to see you're doing well. I was worried about you. The family sounds nice, so give them a chance. (;

 "Okay, that's really sketchy," I said to myself. "Most likely a stalker."

 Not thinking much, I exited, shut my laptop, and jumped back into bed where I quickly drifted to a sound sleep.