Sweet Is Revenge- Chapter Two- Mundane

It's a new day,

But it all feels old.

It's a good life,

That's what I'm told.

But everyday it all just feels the same.

Good Charlotte- The Anthem

Lillian

I woke up to my alarm, at seven am as always. I hit the snooze button for another fifteen minutes of sleep, as always. I swore up a storm when the alarm went off a second time, as always. I drug myself out of bed and into my bathroom, took a shower, dried my hair, put on my make up and got dressed… As always. Life is so mundane. Wake up, get ready, go to school, go home, sleep, repeat. Welcome to my life.

Weekends, those are the only things that change. Weekends make up my life. But partying gets so old, so fast. Same people, same guys who try to get in my pants, same drinks, same hang over, same music, same everything. It's all so redundant. Is there more to life than this? Please, tell me that there is.

Besides being bored out of my mind fourteen out of twenty-four hours of the day, I'm pretty happy with life. I have a good family, young parents who are still madly in love, a twin brother who is a pain in my ass with his over-protectiveness, but still decent, and a goldfish named Blue the Seventh, I can't keep anything else alive. One big happy family. I have nice clothes and a hot car, live in a big house and don't have to pay rent. I never will have to have a job, my dad's job, whatever it is, pays him well and he insists on providing for me. He doesn't like me going out more than I have to be, he says it's 'dangerous.' He would probably flip a lid if he knew I was going out and partying on the weekends, rather than staying the night at my friend Beth's house.

But I can't get over the feeling that something big is going to happen in my life, and by sitting around doing nothing, I'm missing out on a grand adventure. I want action and fun. I want my adrenalin pumping like it does when I'm at the shooting range. I want more. Is that so much to ask?

I had never been more happy to wake up on a Friday. Sure, I have college, but it's nothing too hard. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, so I'm just taking the general classes at our local college. I was just ready to party. Maybe that would cure some of my restlessness. So I packed my over night bag and trudged down stairs. No matter how excited I was, it was still morning and I was not moving fast.

"Morning, beauty," came my mother's voice from the kitchen. I followed it and saw her sitting on the counter drinking some orange juice. She smiled at me. "One of these days you're going to wake up and find that you really are a morning person," she said. I rolled my eyes.

"How many years have you been saying that mom? And it still hasn't happened," I hopped up on the counter next to her, drinking the orange juice straight from the carton. She scowled at me.

"Don't be a heathen, get a glass," it's kind of humorous, in a way, talking to my mom. It sort of feels like talking to my reflection. Of course, she has almost two decades on me, but she has aged well. We look exactly the same, except for our skin tones. I inherited my dark skin from my dad. But everything else, my dark, wavy hair, teal eyes, to the bone structure and all around shape of my body is a clone of my mom's. I'm not complaining because she's gorgeous, I'm just saying it's weird.

"I don't back wash, if that's what you're worried about," I said, taking another gulp to annoy her.

"I'm not worried about that. I'm just thinking that deep down, I know you have some manners somewhere. You can start showing them by using a glass," she huffed. I smiled at her, taking another deliberate swig of the juice and wiping my mouth on my sleeve with a big "ah," afterwards. She sighed. "Are you twenty or twelve?" She asked. I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"Have a good weekend mom, I'll be home Sunday," I said, ignoring her last remark.

"Stay out of trouble, I love you," she called as I walked out of the kitchen, making my way to my parent's room.

"Love you too, mom," I reached my dad's door and knocked. It's a rule in this house, always knock. You might not want to see what's beyond the door. I got no answer as was usual for the morning. Where my mom is a morning person, dad definitely isn't. I opened the door, setting my bag by it and running for the bed. I landed and bounced, making dad groan.

"You're lucky I love you, or I would shoot you," he groaned from underneath his arms. I laughed.

"You need a new line pops, you say that every morning," I leaned over and hugged his back, laying my head on his shoulder. He used one of his hands to try and pat my head, but couldn't reach.

"You going out again this weekend?" He asked, turning to lay on his side so he could give me a real hug.

"Uh huh, honestly, that's a stupid question."

"Well, maybe your old man's hoping that one day you'll decide you want to spend the weekend with him, we haven't gone to the shooting range in months," he yawned as he spoke.

"One, you're thirty-eight, hardly an old man. Two, we'll go. We can go on Sunday if you don't get one of those stupid mysterious phone calls," I hated his phone calls. I hated them to an extreme. No matter what he was doing, he'd have to drop it and go. I always wondered who called him and what he had to go do, but I didn't bother asking after I turned fifteen, I got the same answer every time. 'It doesn't matter.' It gets tiring after awhile.

"Alright, but I'm holding you to it. Maybe I'll even turn off my phone," he said. I raised my eyebrow at him, we both knew that wasn't true.

"Okay Dad, whatever. I love you," I kissed his cheek.

"Love you too babe. Do me a favor, tell my woman to make me some coffee," he said with a glint in his eye.

"Oh no, I've dealt with mom already this morning. I'm not going back. You make your own coffee, you know that's what she'll say anyway," I hopped off the bed as I heard him groan. I shut the door behind me.

"Hey loser, don't forget your bag," I heard my brother's voice behind me.

"Don't 'hey loser' me, you have no room to talk," I turned to face him as he threw me my bag.

"Do you have bricks in that damn thing Lil?" He asked as he rubbed his shoulder. I caught my bag with no problem.

"No Brian, they're called books, you should try reading one sometime. And I'm surprised it even weighed anything at all with all the steroids you've been pumping," my brother was built like my dad, tall and skinny, but he had muscle and it was starting to get a little overwhelming. When his lower arms are bigger than my thighs, that gets me worrying just a little bit.

"Shut up, I don't pump steroids, and I read a lot thank you," he crossed his arms and pouted.

"I know. Anyway, I'm going out for the weekend, you should do something constructive while I'm gone, like going to a tanning booth you albino," unlike me, he had inherited our mother's pale skin with my father's everything else. He hated it, but the girls seemed to like it. The new hot look was pale skin with dark hair I guess, and he did have dark hair and dark eyes, so he was set. That didn't mean he liked it at all. So I messed with him every chance I got.

"Get the fuck out of here," he said waving his hand as to shoo away an unwanted visitor. I smiled up at him.

"I love you B- Bear," I said in a baby voice. He glared at me.

"Yeah yeah, love you too," he said before stalking off. He was too easy.

As I walked out my door that day, I didn't know that the adventure that I wanted would be just around the corner. I didn't know that I would meet somebody who would change my life forever. I didn't know that I'd actually have to use my skills with a gun eventually. No, I didn't know that at all. And I'm sure if I did, I would have taken everything back about life being mundane.

Futureauthor852- I truly am predictable aren't I? Well, I hope there are enough twists and turns to keep you hyped up for the story. I want things to be different in this one, but you have the basic idea.

Reviews keep me motivated. Feedback makes my writing better. =D Help me?