Lost Tempest Queen

Hurry Up Rylie!!!! My mom shouted from below in the kitchen. Of course I had over slept yet again. Waking up in the morning definitely not my favorite time of the day. I unlike the rest of my normal suburban family was NOT a morning person. I huff as I fall out of my bed onto the floor with a loud thud. I feel my temper spike at my older brother Braiden’s snickering outside my door. Rushing to get the blanket untangled from around my legs, so I can try and manage to not be late for once in my life. I hear more snickering from Braiden as he heads down the stairs muttering to himself about how I would be late to my own funeral. Jumping up as quick as I can running to the bath room to brush my teeth and shower. On the way I attempt to smooth my Shirley Temple like hair while pulling it up into a high ponytail. I will deal with that mess after my shower. Turning 18 in two weeks, myself and my parents are going a few towns over to tour my new college campus. I toss on a pair of light skinny jeans, with an orange tank top with bold black letters that say Anger Management across the breast. The color making my weird bright teal eyes pop. Since I didn’t dare wet my hair afraid it would never tame, before having to leave. I opted to run some blueberry bliss de frizz, through it with hopes this would bring out bouncy curls instead of my usual lions mane. Failing to tame the rats nest of my hair, with my ever growing annoyance. I chose to toss it up into a very messy bun. That’s the best it was gonna be I shrugged at myself. I look at the time guessing that my moms head may just explode if I do not get going. I rush to add some black eyeliner and then toss on my white and orange converse sneakers. Hoping on one foot sliding on each shoe while I am racing down the stairs. I skid to a screeching halt in front of my mother, she huff’s loudly at my appearance in disappointment. I already know she expected me to be dressed up much more and in her opinion I dressed like a slob. Don’t get my wrong she is a great mom but I could never live up to her strict formal standards. As I look at my mothers disapproving glare, her appearance always like royalty. Comparing the two of us was like comparing night and day. Her dark walnut eyes a stark contrast to my bright teal color. Her pin straight flawless light brown hair so very different from my always un-manageable strawberry blonde curly mane. Her skin tone such a milky white flawlessly smooth. She’s dainty standing a mer 5’4” tall, she was definitely more feminine looking than me. My frame an athletic 5’9” tall with well defined muscles. Freckles dust my face, from the bridge of my nose over my high creek bones. My olive skin isn’t as flawless with a few small scars around one ankle. We didn’t even resemble family. My mother in her light blue dress with sand colored sandals, standing next to my father. His dark brown straight hair and pecan colored eyes looking amused. He was wearing a dress yellow polo, light brown slacks with dark brown loafers. I could tell he knew his wife was going to express her displeasure of my appearance and tried to head her off with a kiss on my cheek. Telling me he liked my colorful choice of attire. I found out a few years ago I was adopted during a school project. When I tried to talk with my parents about it they got all weird while acting like they did’t know what I was talking about. I just dropped the subject after a few tries, getting no where. The fact was they were my parents even if not by blood. We lived in a quiet two story white house, in the suburbs. I don’t recall my childhood but my life now was awesome. My parents and overly annoying older brother never gave away we were not blood family. My brother looks like a younger sandwiched version of my parents. I have always felt loved, and never wanted for anything. My parents are Jamie Sue and Anderson Allen Stillwell. My brother is Braiden Moore Stillwell, while I am Kylie Anne Stillwell. I stand there gawking with my mouth wide open in shock at my fathers public display of opinion. My moms face turning a bright red in anger as she turns to walk out the front door. My dad looks down at me and his feature soften. She’s just nervous for you my love. I roll my eyes not buying that load of bull again. Ever since I started applying for colleges she has had an epic malfunction. It has been the same s**t each time I get approved. We take a tour, while my mom finds every flaw in the school. She wants me to go to University of North Carolina Wilmington aka UNCW, because it’s safe and close she says. I want freedom and I wasn’t going to get it still living at home. She isn’t going to approve I whine at him. She never approves because she just wants me to go where she wants me to go. A pain look flashes in his eyes mixed with a bit of panic before it’s gone like I had imagined it. He chuckles saying he will try and help her to understand. I nod with a small smile and we head to my dad‘s F350 truck. Climbing into the backseat I pop in my earbuds to calm my ever growing emotions. As of late I have been feeling on edge like waiting for something that I can’t explain to happen. Listening to the violin solo piece Scheherazade by Rimsky-Korsakov calms me almost back to slumber.