Chapter 2: :(Robin) The Surprise
I woke up to the roaring of ambulances. The banging of doors. Broken sobs. All outside my house on a busy street in London. Confused, I pulled on a grey hoodie and tiptoed downstairs to see what had happened. My Mom was sitting a table crying, surrounded by police officers.
And then I saw it.
My Dad's body was being taken into an ambulance: he was covered in blood.
Before I could stop myself, I let out a muffled gasp. "Robin?" my Mom said miserably. "Is that you?" Rather embarrassed, I pushed open the door and stepped into the kitchen.
I don't like to boast. But, yes. I am rich. Very rich in fact. My parents are (or were for my Dad) CEOs of companies. I lived in a huge mansion which was extremely modern. And because my parents were so 'superior', they had incredibly high expectations for me and my sister. My sister is 23 and very successful. She is a lawyer and my parents are incredibly proud of her. Heck, she can even afford to live by herself in a flat. But me. I'm a nightmare in comparison. The only subject I can do is art. And I do that extremely well. However, I fail all the other subjects. I know that I'm such a disappointment to everyone because all the jobs my parents want me to get don't involve art. And yes. I do hear them talking about how 'concerned' they are about me and my grades. Yeah. It sucks.
"Mom! What happened?" I asked, confused and threw myself across the kitchen towards her. I sat beside her whilst she stroked my bright, orange hair which flowed down my back. "A lot, sweetheart. Som... someone horrible has murdered...." my Mom broke out into a sob. I put my arm around her trembling shoulders. ".... your Dad and... and... Brooklyn..." Brooklyn was the name of my sister by the way. Everyone calls her Brooke.
"Brooke too?!" I gasped, speechless. I stared at my Mom in horror. I felt my face burning. I hadn't expected this on a boring Monday morning. My eyes watered and I shut them tightly, blocking the pain that filled my heart. I didn't want to think about the news my Mom had just told me. "I'm going to get ready for school." I mumbled and gave my Mom a hug. I could tell she was going to stop me but obviously changed her mind.
I trudged up the stairs and into my bedroom and slammed the door, accidentally knocking over a painting of my best friend that I had started the other day which knocked over my jar of paint brushes. I glared at the painting like it was its fault for throwing my paint brushes everywhere. Then, I clambered into the shower, aggressively rubbing soap all over my body. I yanked my uniform on and slung my bag over my shoulder so hard that it hit my head. Cursing, I twisted my wavy, orange hair into a low ponytail. I stared at my face in the mirror and watched as a lonely tear ran down my pale face. I wiped it away and applied some lip gloss. My heart thudded.
I felt too depressed and confused to go to school. But I needed to vent to someone about my life. My best friend, Blair, was perfect for that.
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