Christopher Jacobs - (DIMENSION: NINETY-SEVEN - LOCATION: SAN MARCOS, TEXAS):
Waking up to the alarm blaring in my ears, I leaped up and slammed my head against the bottom of the top bunk, pressing my hand against my forehead in pain. Max, on the other hand, just rolled off the top bunk in a panic, slamming onto the floor with a loud THUD!
"OWW!" Max yelped in pain, clutching the right side of his stomach while doubling over in agony.
I slowly got off the bed, trying not to slam into the walls of our cramped room, if you could even call it that. Opening the door to the hall, it reeked of alcohol from the night before, along with wine stains scattered everywhere. Our stepdad, Brock, lay passed out on the couch, beer in his hand, while our step-mom was nowhere to be seen, probably drunk out of her mind somewhere else in the apartment. I still don't know how they managed to hold jobs for more than a few days.
The carpet was still soggy with red wine after last night's ordeal, shattered glass littering the floor with little specks of blood on them, nothing out of the ordinary. We skillfully dodged them after years of learning, trying not to tear our duct tape "shoes" apart.
I tried to rush into the bathroom, but Max, being the only one out of the two of us to work out, shoved me against the wall and made a run for it, stealthily leaping over the shards, just barely missing them. He slammed the door shut, almost breaking it off its hinges, making Brock rustle in his sleep but somehow not wake up. I, on the other hand, looked at the time and decided that maybe I didn't need to shower and that deodorant and cologne would do for today.
I walked to our balcony and changed into the third pair of clothes I had, still damp after the thunderstorm from the night before. Gazing down, I saw my only other two pairs laying on the street, covered in mud and cigarette butts. I only needed one pair of clothes besides my uniform until I got my paycheck, anyway.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I combed my unruly black hair using a very dull knife I had found. The black jacket, khakis, and blue T-shirt barely covered all six feet of me, stretching to fit.
After changing, I went to our kitchen and looked through the pantry, eventually stumbling upon the seven-month-old cereal box, where a plant was growing out of it. Maybe milk and a bagel would do for a few hours, I thought as I threw the box into the trash. Thankfully the bagels were fine, but when I took out the milk, I saw the expiration date.
"June fourteenth, twenty-twenty-one," it read.
It was August tenth, twenty-twenty-two today. Our first day of school was going well, I thought to myself, and there was no way it could get any worse, but I was proven wrong five seconds later when I split the bagel in half to share with Max, but looking inside, I saw a greenish-white mold clumped together and just tossed the bagel away. Max eventually got out of the shower, steam pouring out with the welcome scent of shampoo momentarily clearing out the smell of smoke, wine, and misery.
Whilst he got changed, I opened the closet and brought out the two new pairs of shoes that I had recently bought using almost all of my money. When Max came out after changing, he was wearing a bright orange t-shirt that clung tightly to his six-feet-one-inch form, accompanied by black shoes and black shorts. His black hair was unruly like mine was not too long ago, so I sat him down and combed his hair after washing the knife, much to his protest. Once he stood up, he went to put on his outside duct-tape shoes, but right before he could, I stopped him and presented the shoes to him. Rather than being happy, he was mad that I'd spent about fifty dollars on him.
"Chris, you didn't need to buy these," he said while putting them on, showing that although he was disappointed that I spent money on him, he was still grateful.
"You're right, I didn't, but you're the only family I have in my life, and I want you to be happy," I said, drawing attention to the fact that we only had each other to rely on.
"But I can't repay you," he said, hugging me tightly.
"You don't have to," I replied as I wrapped my arms around him, acting like I was shielding my brother from this horrible reality we lived in.