Another short chapter...oops. Oh well, at least I got something done-ish. Please review! I'd love to hear feedback on my story!
"Shit!" I scream in realization of the time. If I want to be on time to school (and I do), then I have about ten minutes before I need to be out the door. This wouldn't be too difficult if I didn't also have to get Ramiel. Scott used to say that there are three types of people; morning people, people who hate mornings, and Ramiel. On a good day, I can get him to be ready in an hour. Good days occur about once a year.
"Ramiel!" I scream as loudly as I can. I wait a few seconds with no reply before sprinting down the hall with nephilim speed to his room. "Ramiel, get the hell out of bed! We need to go, now!"
"You said hell was a bad word," he mumbles into his pillow.
"Whatever, besides, it's Dante's old neighborhood. And it'll be yours if you can't butt out of bed and dressed in the next two minutes, you hear me?" He nods swiftly. Ramiel, however terrible in the morning, has always been obedient.
I march myself back to my own room, dressing quickly in a pair of jean shorts, a tie-dyed tank top, wrapping my hair into a loose bun, as well as swiping on a dash of mascara and lipgloss, my maximum amount of makeup. I sigh as I jump over the stone foyer down to the first floor. "Still got it," I state proudly to no one in particular. I check my watch for the two minute timer that I'd set for Ramiel to get ready. "Ten, nine, eight, seven. . ." I shout out, knowing that he'd come sprinting down the stairs any second.
Once he does, he rushes past me with such speed I nearly fall over. Ramiel merely snorts as I reach up to grab onto an old rusty sword hanging on the wall. Of course, the manor house had been renovated to get things like electricity, plumbing, heating, etc., but the majority of the rooms are still in their same shape, including the old relics hanging or standing around the house. Even some of the rugs and hides found throughout dated back a few centuries to when Patch must have lived here under the rules of manorialism and feudalism. I can't help but giggle at the thought of Patch marching around in odd attire, which causes Ramiel to look at me funny.
"Quit your staring and get in the darn car!"
"Which car? Yours, uncle Scott's, or uncle Dante's?"
"Better take Scott's, I highly doubt that he actually changed the motor oil."
I grab the jaguar F-type SVR convertible keys off the hook in the front hall and run out to the sleek black car. God, those two and their flashy cars. Although if I'm being totally honest, I'm just as bad with my own car. By the time the keys are in the ignition, Ramiel is already in the car with the backpack that he must have packed the night before.
I turn the car around preparing to head down the hill still slick with last night's rain. As I do so, I check in the rear view mirror to verify that Ramiel is buckled in. "Did you happen to pack a lunch in that time, Rami?" I question, although assuming the answer will be a no.
He shakes his head side to side slowly, still groggy from having just woken up.
"Alright, what time is your lunch today?"
"12:05 on Tuesdays. Same as it's always been, mom."
"My lunch break is 11:45 to 12:45. I can drop something off. Anything you want today?"
"Pizza?" He asks with a glint of hope in his eyes. How can I say no to those dark glossy eyes and cute dimples? "And ice cream too?"
"Fine," I cave. I see him pump his fist in the air. "But only if you promise to clean your room tonight."
"Okay," Rami responds with less enthusiasm than before.
We drive in silence as I took glances at the shops along Preble Street, the Champs D'Elysee or Grande Allee, if you will, of Benwick. Benwick isn't exactly a large town, but Preble Street is known for being bustling with tourists checking out all the restaurants and stores lining the sidewalk. Similarly to Preble, although Alyn Manor is private property, passersby gawk at the few glimpses they can get through the trees atop the hill, wanting to see the heart of the town and where it originated.
As I pull up to Midford Elmentary Private School I nearly scream in frustration at the line to drop children off. With this backup, I'll be able to might make it to school in 12 hours if I'm lucky.
By the time I finally pull up to the drop off area, I'm practically pulling my hair out. Dropping off a child should not take half an hour. "By, Rami, I'll see you this afternoon! Love you!"
Love you too, but you can't say that in front of people! It's embarrassing! He mind speaks to me. I burst out laughing as I head over to Milford High.