๐’ฎ๐“Ž๐“ƒ๐’น๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’ โžณBook 1

By Sourpxtchh All Rights Reserved ยฉ

Thriller / Drama

Blurb

Cassius Moore is an 18 year old boy who has recently found himself living on the streets and no guidance in life. His parents are dead and they were only able to pay for one semester of college before they passed. He dreads the fact that he doesnโ€™t know what he is going to do when the semester ends so he tries to do the best he can in the small amount of time that he has. A strange twist of fate leads him into the house of Briar Turner, a girl who has been his crush since high school. She knocks him out with a baseball bat and ties him up into a chair. Cassius soon realizes that the girl before him is not the girl that he thought she was.

1

Cassius


"Cassius! Come downstairs and have some breakfast!"

I groaned and rolled over in my bed, placing my face downwards on my pillow.

Like always, I didn't want to get up. It seemed that no matter how early I went to bed, I never got enough rest. I always woke up tired and despising the world.

Even better, I was starting college soon, and my mother decided it was a brilliant idea to give me 9 a.m. classes.

My own mother... wishing for me to be unsuccessful in life.

I mean, seriously, who does that? I recently hit the age of 18 a couple of months back so you would be of the belief that she should understand by now that I wasn't a morning person!

"Cassius! Come down here and eat before it grows cold! This is the last time I'm going to call you!"

"Alright..." I grumbled to myself as I sat up. The scent of pancakes along with eggs floated upwards from downstairs and evaded my nose causing my stomach to growl.

The only thing that could coax me out of bed was mom's cooking. One bite of her food could get you through the day and make you come back begging for more.

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?

Eat moms cooking.

Get a poor grade that you weren't contented with?

Eat moms cooking.

Her food was a gift from the heavens.

The fact that I could detect the aroma of pancakes meant that she was in a jovial mood.

She knows I enjoy her pancakes, and since she makes them from scratch and they take a while, she only manages it on special occasions. She must have good news for me.

I crept out of bed and made my way into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I surveyed my reflection. Short chestnut hair, hazel eyes, and bushy eyebrows. Clear skin without a zit in sight.

Everything was wonderful right now. Just graduated high school and I was free for the summer and now I was going to satisfy my stomach with delicious pancakes.

Life could not get any better than that.


I could feel myself stirring from the dream, but I didn't want to. I could still smell the eggs and mother's pancakes, and I wished to hold on to that smell forever. I wanted to cling on to my former life and take it back into reality.

My eyelashes fluttered open. Rather than encountering my mirror image, I was confronted by darkness and the hazy outline of the top of the bunk bed that I was sleeping on. I discovered myself twisting as well as turning in my dormancy these days, so I repeatedly took the bottom bunk for myself.

The lights all of a sudden deprived of warning clicked on and I could make out the groans coming from the other beds.

"Rise and shine people! The showers are currently open and breakfast will be served in 20 minutes!"

I drew out from under the bunk, stretched and looked around.

Some people were still sleeping while others were getting ready to go begin their day. There were regularly more men than women in these shelters and looking around, I could only spot 5 or 6 with their children in the sea of people.

I took my travel kit and towel from underneath my pillow and swiftly engaged in making my way to the back of the room where the showers were. This shelter provided a couple of operating showers, and they filled up quickly if you weren't fast enough.

Luckily for me, there were more people still sleeping, then trying to get into the showers. Since there were just a few people, I was apt to pick which shower I wanted.

Walking through the entranceway, I looked around to see if there were any available. There was a row of 10 showers on either side of the room, making it a total of 20 vacant ones. I decided to take the one on the far left. The showers were open doors, so anyone could just walk in or watch you while you were showering.

The ones at the end of the row restricted the view of any individual attempting to look in at me.

Being in this place for 3 months, you would expect I would grow used to it, but I still valued my privacy.

Entering the shower, I stripped off my clothes and discarded them in a crumpled heap in the corner. I also turned on the shower and let the warm water wash over me for a few seconds. I regularly did this when I first came in. I don't know its just an odd thing that I merely happen to do. I like having the warmth of the water wash off the previous night and stress from my skin, making me feel brand new to take on the day.

Reaching into my kit, I took out the toothbrush, shampoo, soap and toothpaste that the proprietors of the shelter gave me. I quickly washed my hair, brushed my teeth and washed off all the grime off of my face.

After showering, I got into the gray sweatpants and a gray hoodie that was brought out to me. Then I departed into the dining room and speedily chomped down a bowl of porridge. It was truly kind of the proprietors to give us clothes, food, a place to stay and an opportunity to clean ourselves.

Prior to leaving the shelter, we had to bring all of our belongings with us. The shelter opened at a precise time each day and if you weren't quick enough, all the beds would fill up and you would have to find a park bench to sleep on. Even if you were fortunate enough to make it, there wasn't a very high possibility of using the same bed that you had the night earlier.

The only belongings that I had left were a notebook, a pencil, and a watch. I was surprised that someone hadn't stolen my watch already, but I was exceptionally talented at concealing it so that was most likely why.

I put on my watch and looked at the time.

8:30

Shit

My first class of the day began at 9! I snatched my things and hurried out of the shelter. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, yet there was still a frigidity in the air.

I attended Hampton Community College, which wasn't that far from the shelter. It would take me at the most 15 minutes to get there on foot, 10 if I pushed myself strenuously enough.

Shortly enough, the college came into view. I made it with about 10 minutes to spare. The parking lot was basically deserted with just a few cars parked in some of the spots. I couldn't even see anyone walking on campus.

Either they were already in their class or a majority of people decided to be smart and not take morning classes.

If only I could be one of those people. I pleaded and begged not to take such early classes so that I could catch some more sleep, but my parents just wouldn't listen to me.

Mom

Dad

I paused in the entryway of the G building. I could feel the familiar sensation of tears starting to take shape, but I hurried to wipe them away. This usually occurred whenever I thought about them. I've been doing that a lot lately.

There was no use in crying anymore. I couldn't reconstruct the past, and what took place. I could only improve my future.

Even though it currently wasn't looking so good for me.

I walked into the building and found my classroom, Room 203. My parents always desired for me to pursue a vocation in the medical field when I grew up so I decided to grant their wishes. I wasn't sure of what I wanted to be therefore having a career picked out for me was the best thing.

College kicked off 2 weeks ago, and I was still struggling to get the flow of it. On the first day, Professor Powell distributed the course syllabus which had all of our assignments, due dates and her contact information on it.

A brief glance informed me that we would have a test every other week and a project due each month.

I don't know where I would be able to obtain the resources to complete the projects, but I would have to make do somehow.

Even though I only just had one semester, I was going to make my parents proud. I would do my best to hand in everything on time and get good grades on these exams.

I owe it to them.

I was going to make this work, dammit.

The classroom was made up of six rows of desks. I sat in the very back of the third row. A few other students came here before me and some of them were speaking to their neighbor or doing something on their phone.

I didn't have any friends here yet and wasn't certain if I desired to make any at all. I didn't care for anyone here to find out about my current living circumstances and make fun of me for it.

Plus, I was going to be here purely for a short time. It would be a misuse of my time, and anyone else's if they attempted to get close to me or get to associate with me.

It was safer if I was left alone.

Before long students starting filing into the room more quickly. Looking at my watch, the time read 8:55. Since the first day, Professor Powell has consistently been on time and as soon as she walked in, she would start talking. If you didn't have your notes and pen ready, you would lose valuable information from her.

She also refused to repeat anything you might have misheard or didn't pick up at all.

Another plus was the fact that she was one of those professors who spoke extremely fast and didn't understand how to slow down.

I opened my notebook and attempted to focus on the notes I took last class. I was taking "General Psychology I, " so we were learning about the science of human conduct and mental states. I didn't thoroughly grasp it that much so I tried to comprehend it before she walked in and starting teaching raw material.

"This is the absolute last time I'm picking you up Zorada. You nearly caused us to be late again."

Everything that I had scrutinized blanked out of my head. I could hear my heartbeat quickening at an unsteady pace, but it sounded dull and very far away.

The sole thing that I could focus on was that voice.

Her voice.

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