Sworn
Page 2
No, Rachel was smart, had brown hair, average weight (not skinny but not heavy). She was decent looking, but had never considered herself to be beautiful. Rachel loved sports and being outside in nature. She was a good girl and always obeyed the rules. She had a handful of good friends, but was not in the popular crowd. She’d never had a boyfriend, although she had many crushes.
So to say the two didn’t understand each other would be an understatement. Rachel went over to her box of stuff and rummaged through it, in search of her diary. She had been writing in her diary every night since 7th grade, and didn’t want tonight to be any different.
Rachel found it stashed at the bottom of the box and blew the dust off. Her diary was her life. Purple velvet, with a skull on the front, it was thick and heavy with notes from friends, ticket stubs, and pictures taped inside. Rachel wore the silver key to her diary around her neck and never took it off. She was a very private girl, and would rather die than have anyone read her diary.
Rachel lifted her diary up close to her necklace, and then opened the heart-shaped lock. She had become a master at unlocking it while still keeping the key attached to her necklace.
She picked out her favorite pen from the box and leaned forward to write:
Dear Diary,
Today has been the worst day of my life. I am sitting here, in my new room, going through all my pictures of my friends, and I realize that I don’t have any friends here in Westchester. Not one. School starts tomorrow and I’m scared. I bet nobody will talk to me. I spoke to Dana and they’re all having a last night of summer party tonight while I’m sitting here in this empty, cold room. God, could things get any worse? I’ll write more tomorrow to let you know how school goes – if I make it through.
XOXO,
Rachel
Rachel put down her diary and fell back onto her soft bed. She put her head onto her feather pillow and pulled her red and white striped blanket over her head. Rachel was too tired to cry, but too anxious to fall asleep. She lay awake, running different scenarios of how her first day would go over and over in her head. Each scenario was more daunting than the next.
Around one in the morning, Rachel fell asleep.
Chapter Two
Rachel bolted out of bed to jarring Latin dance music blasting from her alarm radio. She stumbled out of bed and fell over clothes, trinkets, pictures and papers she had scattered on the floor in an effort to organize her life. When she finally reached the switch, the alarm mysteriously stopped.
Now that Rachel had been so rudely awakened, she walked over to her bathroom door and reached for the handle: locked. Rachel knocked, as she heard the shower turn on and Sarah’s voice, belting out a Demi Lovato song. She knocked louder, hoping Sarah would hear.
“What? Can’t you hear I’m in the shower?” Sarah said.
“How much longer will you be? I have to get ready too, ya know!” Rachel said loudly putting her face to the crack in the door.
Rachel waited, but Sarah did not answer.
Rachel walked over to the mess of scattered clothes that lay on her floor. None of it was organized: mismatched socks, sweaters, tank tops, shorts, jeans and her favorite Rolling Stones Tee, all lying lifeless at her feet.
Rachel rolled up her blinds and opened her window about halfway, to gauge the temperature. It was September 8th, and already she could feel the cool breezes of Fall. The leaves rustled in the large trees outside her bedroom window and she took a deep breath of the crisp air. Out of her window, she saw a long front lawn with a few trees scattered near the edges. One of the trees had an old tire swing hanging from its limb, which Rachel assumed had been from the previous owners. The lawn was a dull green color with patches of brown throughout. There was a small garden off to the left with overgrown flowers and weeds. Rachel stared at it for a moment, then shut the window with a bang.
What to wear? Rachel thought.
She suddenly remembered a trip to JCPenney’s that she took with Dana about a month ago. Penney’s always had their cutest Fall things out over the Summer, and Rachel and Dana had gone shopping early for the season. Rachel remembered buying a cute new pair of worn-in boyfriend jeans, with patches and small tears in the knees. She knew those would be the perfect match with her Stones tee.
Rachel lifted up bags and belts and peered into her large box of stuff. The jeans were nowhere to be found.
She opened her bedroom door and yelled down to her mom; “Mom, where did my new jeans go?”
She stood in her doorway and waited for her mom to respond.
“How should I know what you did what your clothes? Don’t blame me if you can’t find them. You’re the one who packed in a huff last week, not I, Darling,” her mom yelled back up, in a snarky tone.
Rachel grunted and slammed her door.
She spotted another pair of dark blue Levi’s lying wrinkled on the floor. The ends, too long, were frayed and Rachel had never gotten around to hemming them. She tried them on, smoothing the wrinkles out with her hands. They felt a bit tighter than she’d remembered, so she squatted down a few times and then held the squat to stretch them out.
RIP. The crotch seam burst open.
At that moment the Latin dance music came back on her alarm radio, this time even louder. Rachel waddled in her jeans searching for the clock. She lifted up her white puffy North Face winter coat and found her radio. She slammed her hand down on the off button, and randomly turned the tuner.
Rachel unbuttoned her Levi’s and pulled them off her legs. She didn’t realize she’d put on a few pounds since last Spring, but apparently she had.
Rachel saw a pair of faded-black Target leggings rolled up in a ball on the floor. She put them on, not having any other options. (At least, none that were unpacked.) The good thing about leggings, Rachel thought, was that no matter how many ice cream cones she had they’d always fit.
Rachel reached for her Stones tee and put it on. She didn’t have a mirror in her bedroom, but hoped the outfit looked all right.
Rachel picked up her black nylon toiletry bag and knocked on the bathroom door again. No answer. Rachel turned the doorknob; the door opened and clouds of soapy smelling steam hit her in the face.
Rachel made a fist and wiped off a large circle in the mirror so she could see her face. She peered into the mirror and saw a small zit beginning to form right in the center of her forehead. She quickly reached for her Proactiv, washed her face and put on a spot treatment. She hoped this zit would disappear by eight o’clock; she didn’t want to be known as the new girl with the huge zit.
Thinking about time, Rachel looked down at her purple Swatch Watch and realized she only had twenty more minutes until she had to leave for school.
She let out a big sigh and quickly reached into her makeup bag. She opened up her Urban Decay blush and swiped it onto her cheeks. Then she opened the cap of her Cover Girl mascara and layered it on her lashes, one quick stroke at a time. She pulled out her Maybelline baby blue eye shadow and put one stroke on each lid and closed the case. She reached for her hairbrush and ran it through her tangled and knotted mess of bed head hair. It was still a little frizzy and definitely not what she had hoped for her first day of school, but it would have to do.
Rachel grabbed her black high-top Converse and her Kipling backpack and headed downstairs for breakfast.
When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she could already hear Mark and Sarah bickering over who got to sit in the front seat of the car on the way to school.
“Give it a rest,” their dad said in a firm, loud tone.
Rachel walked briskly into the dark, smelly kitchen, which she disliked with a passion, and sat down at the kitchen table.
In front of her were two boxes of cereal, Golden Grahams and Cheerios. Rachel reached for the Golden Grahams, tilted the box, but nothing came out. Empty.
Rachel looked up at Mark and Sarah who were happily eating their bowls of Golden Grahams, which were heaping out of their bowls.
“Thanks a lot, guys,” Rachel said.
“Sucks to be you,” Mark replied with a huge mouthful of cereal.
Rachel forcefully reached for the box of Cheerios and poured some into her bowl. She hated plain cheerios. She picked up her spoon and put a small bite into her mouth and started chewing.
“So, you kids ready for your first day?” their dad asked.
“Yup,” said Mark. “9th grade – high school, here I come!”
Mark was fine with the move because he was just starting high school and didn’t have any qualms about leaving Pennsylvania. He always wanted to get out of that small town anyway, so this was a blessing for him. It was also not so hard for Mark, because he was entering in 9th grade and that was much better than starting in 10th. Everyone expects there to be new kids in 9th grade.
Sarah looked down at her Blackberry and smiled, “Gary says hello and wishes everyone a fab day.”
Sarah’s boyfriend, Gary, had just started college at Skidmore University, so that was lucky for Sarah because it was now only a short train ride away.
Rachel looked at Sarah and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t understand how her sister could be so perky and upbeat all the time.
Rachel’s mom came dashing into the kitchen. “Come on kids, you don’t want to be late on your first day. It’s time to go!” she said.
Rachel’s mom kissed her dad on the cheek and said, “I’ll see you when you get home from work. Have an excellent day. I love you.”
Rachel, Mark and Sarah all put on their shoes, grabbed their backpacks – well, Sarah grabbed her black patent leather shoulder bag – and headed out towards the car.
Sarah breezed by Rachel and hopped into the front seat, shut the door and started pressing the buttons on the radio. Their family had a rule, that whoever sat in the front could choose the radio station. So Rachel was in for a bubble gum pop music extravaganza on her way to school.
As the Jonas Brothers blared over the radio, Rachel’s nerves began to grow. She felt her body tense up and get cold and clammy. She only had a few more minutes before she walked into AHS for the first time.
The minutes felt like hours as her mom drove down the windy back roads of Bedford, New York. Rachel looked out the window and saw cars full of teenagers drive past her, smiling and laughing. Rachel got even more nervous, thinking about the prospect of making new friends.
So to say the two didn’t understand each other would be an understatement. Rachel went over to her box of stuff and rummaged through it, in search of her diary. She had been writing in her diary every night since 7th grade, and didn’t want tonight to be any different.
Rachel found it stashed at the bottom of the box and blew the dust off. Her diary was her life. Purple velvet, with a skull on the front, it was thick and heavy with notes from friends, ticket stubs, and pictures taped inside. Rachel wore the silver key to her diary around her neck and never took it off. She was a very private girl, and would rather die than have anyone read her diary.
Rachel lifted her diary up close to her necklace, and then opened the heart-shaped lock. She had become a master at unlocking it while still keeping the key attached to her necklace.
She picked out her favorite pen from the box and leaned forward to write:
Dear Diary,
Today has been the worst day of my life. I am sitting here, in my new room, going through all my pictures of my friends, and I realize that I don’t have any friends here in Westchester. Not one. School starts tomorrow and I’m scared. I bet nobody will talk to me. I spoke to Dana and they’re all having a last night of summer party tonight while I’m sitting here in this empty, cold room. God, could things get any worse? I’ll write more tomorrow to let you know how school goes – if I make it through.
XOXO,
Rachel
Rachel put down her diary and fell back onto her soft bed. She put her head onto her feather pillow and pulled her red and white striped blanket over her head. Rachel was too tired to cry, but too anxious to fall asleep. She lay awake, running different scenarios of how her first day would go over and over in her head. Each scenario was more daunting than the next.
Around one in the morning, Rachel fell asleep.
Chapter Two
Rachel bolted out of bed to jarring Latin dance music blasting from her alarm radio. She stumbled out of bed and fell over clothes, trinkets, pictures and papers she had scattered on the floor in an effort to organize her life. When she finally reached the switch, the alarm mysteriously stopped.
Now that Rachel had been so rudely awakened, she walked over to her bathroom door and reached for the handle: locked. Rachel knocked, as she heard the shower turn on and Sarah’s voice, belting out a Demi Lovato song. She knocked louder, hoping Sarah would hear.
“What? Can’t you hear I’m in the shower?” Sarah said.
“How much longer will you be? I have to get ready too, ya know!” Rachel said loudly putting her face to the crack in the door.
Rachel waited, but Sarah did not answer.
Rachel walked over to the mess of scattered clothes that lay on her floor. None of it was organized: mismatched socks, sweaters, tank tops, shorts, jeans and her favorite Rolling Stones Tee, all lying lifeless at her feet.
Rachel rolled up her blinds and opened her window about halfway, to gauge the temperature. It was September 8th, and already she could feel the cool breezes of Fall. The leaves rustled in the large trees outside her bedroom window and she took a deep breath of the crisp air. Out of her window, she saw a long front lawn with a few trees scattered near the edges. One of the trees had an old tire swing hanging from its limb, which Rachel assumed had been from the previous owners. The lawn was a dull green color with patches of brown throughout. There was a small garden off to the left with overgrown flowers and weeds. Rachel stared at it for a moment, then shut the window with a bang.
What to wear? Rachel thought.
She suddenly remembered a trip to JCPenney’s that she took with Dana about a month ago. Penney’s always had their cutest Fall things out over the Summer, and Rachel and Dana had gone shopping early for the season. Rachel remembered buying a cute new pair of worn-in boyfriend jeans, with patches and small tears in the knees. She knew those would be the perfect match with her Stones tee.
Rachel lifted up bags and belts and peered into her large box of stuff. The jeans were nowhere to be found.
She opened her bedroom door and yelled down to her mom; “Mom, where did my new jeans go?”
She stood in her doorway and waited for her mom to respond.
“How should I know what you did what your clothes? Don’t blame me if you can’t find them. You’re the one who packed in a huff last week, not I, Darling,” her mom yelled back up, in a snarky tone.
Rachel grunted and slammed her door.
She spotted another pair of dark blue Levi’s lying wrinkled on the floor. The ends, too long, were frayed and Rachel had never gotten around to hemming them. She tried them on, smoothing the wrinkles out with her hands. They felt a bit tighter than she’d remembered, so she squatted down a few times and then held the squat to stretch them out.
RIP. The crotch seam burst open.
At that moment the Latin dance music came back on her alarm radio, this time even louder. Rachel waddled in her jeans searching for the clock. She lifted up her white puffy North Face winter coat and found her radio. She slammed her hand down on the off button, and randomly turned the tuner.
Rachel unbuttoned her Levi’s and pulled them off her legs. She didn’t realize she’d put on a few pounds since last Spring, but apparently she had.
Rachel saw a pair of faded-black Target leggings rolled up in a ball on the floor. She put them on, not having any other options. (At least, none that were unpacked.) The good thing about leggings, Rachel thought, was that no matter how many ice cream cones she had they’d always fit.
Rachel reached for her Stones tee and put it on. She didn’t have a mirror in her bedroom, but hoped the outfit looked all right.
Rachel picked up her black nylon toiletry bag and knocked on the bathroom door again. No answer. Rachel turned the doorknob; the door opened and clouds of soapy smelling steam hit her in the face.
Rachel made a fist and wiped off a large circle in the mirror so she could see her face. She peered into the mirror and saw a small zit beginning to form right in the center of her forehead. She quickly reached for her Proactiv, washed her face and put on a spot treatment. She hoped this zit would disappear by eight o’clock; she didn’t want to be known as the new girl with the huge zit.
Thinking about time, Rachel looked down at her purple Swatch Watch and realized she only had twenty more minutes until she had to leave for school.
She let out a big sigh and quickly reached into her makeup bag. She opened up her Urban Decay blush and swiped it onto her cheeks. Then she opened the cap of her Cover Girl mascara and layered it on her lashes, one quick stroke at a time. She pulled out her Maybelline baby blue eye shadow and put one stroke on each lid and closed the case. She reached for her hairbrush and ran it through her tangled and knotted mess of bed head hair. It was still a little frizzy and definitely not what she had hoped for her first day of school, but it would have to do.
Rachel grabbed her black high-top Converse and her Kipling backpack and headed downstairs for breakfast.
When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she could already hear Mark and Sarah bickering over who got to sit in the front seat of the car on the way to school.
“Give it a rest,” their dad said in a firm, loud tone.
Rachel walked briskly into the dark, smelly kitchen, which she disliked with a passion, and sat down at the kitchen table.
In front of her were two boxes of cereal, Golden Grahams and Cheerios. Rachel reached for the Golden Grahams, tilted the box, but nothing came out. Empty.
Rachel looked up at Mark and Sarah who were happily eating their bowls of Golden Grahams, which were heaping out of their bowls.
“Thanks a lot, guys,” Rachel said.
“Sucks to be you,” Mark replied with a huge mouthful of cereal.
Rachel forcefully reached for the box of Cheerios and poured some into her bowl. She hated plain cheerios. She picked up her spoon and put a small bite into her mouth and started chewing.
“So, you kids ready for your first day?” their dad asked.
“Yup,” said Mark. “9th grade – high school, here I come!”
Mark was fine with the move because he was just starting high school and didn’t have any qualms about leaving Pennsylvania. He always wanted to get out of that small town anyway, so this was a blessing for him. It was also not so hard for Mark, because he was entering in 9th grade and that was much better than starting in 10th. Everyone expects there to be new kids in 9th grade.
Sarah looked down at her Blackberry and smiled, “Gary says hello and wishes everyone a fab day.”
Sarah’s boyfriend, Gary, had just started college at Skidmore University, so that was lucky for Sarah because it was now only a short train ride away.
Rachel looked at Sarah and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t understand how her sister could be so perky and upbeat all the time.
Rachel’s mom came dashing into the kitchen. “Come on kids, you don’t want to be late on your first day. It’s time to go!” she said.
Rachel’s mom kissed her dad on the cheek and said, “I’ll see you when you get home from work. Have an excellent day. I love you.”
Rachel, Mark and Sarah all put on their shoes, grabbed their backpacks – well, Sarah grabbed her black patent leather shoulder bag – and headed out towards the car.
Sarah breezed by Rachel and hopped into the front seat, shut the door and started pressing the buttons on the radio. Their family had a rule, that whoever sat in the front could choose the radio station. So Rachel was in for a bubble gum pop music extravaganza on her way to school.
As the Jonas Brothers blared over the radio, Rachel’s nerves began to grow. She felt her body tense up and get cold and clammy. She only had a few more minutes before she walked into AHS for the first time.
The minutes felt like hours as her mom drove down the windy back roads of Bedford, New York. Rachel looked out the window and saw cars full of teenagers drive past her, smiling and laughing. Rachel got even more nervous, thinking about the prospect of making new friends.
