Cracking open a crust-sealed eye to glance at the time on my phone, I let out a satisfied yawn. One of the best things about being so active is that you're always worn out, therefore sleeping is amazing, the downside being, though, that you're a naturally active human being who cannot lie in bed for more than five minutes before spontaneously combusting.

Flinging the covers off, I slip on my slippers and ratty, fraying bathrobe that have both seen better days, and head downstairs to the kitchen where I happen to find mom already up and dressed for the day.

She's stirring some cream into her coffee when she greets me, "Morning,"

"That it is," I sit my ass on the counter, swing my long, limber legs to the front of me then twist behind to dig around for my mug in the cabinet. "Can I have a cup?"

Stifling a yawn first, she gives me one of her classic looks that roughly translates to "in your dreams, kid".

"Why would you ever need coffee? You're practically a Mexican jumping bean without it."

I pull my home-crafted mug anyway. "Just a little?"

Though she rolls her eyes, she gives in. "Fine, I don't have to deal with your hyperactiveness anyway."

"Hey, maybe this'll stunt my growth and maybe, just maybe I'll stop growing so much." That'd be great news for my boobs.

I'd like to think I look like my mother, but the only things I inherited from her are her full rack and brown eyes, everything else made up out of thin air- I could be adopted for all I know because I sure as hell don't look anything like my dad, at least not anymore. The only thing I wish I would have gotten from her, in all actuality, is her amazing, flaming strawberry blond hair. It could've just been my creative child mind, but whenever it would blow in the wind, it looked like it was some sort of crazy fire or something. Even as it's grown duller due to age, I'm still ooh-ing and aw-ing over it. But we always want what we can't have, don't we?

She merely shrugs as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"What are you thinking about doing today?"

"I dunno, maybe head over to grandma and grandpa's."

"So they can deal with your hyperactiveness?"

I smile, tongue-in-cheek. "Somebody has to deal with it. I can't always torture you guys."

Smirking at me, she goes to wash out her mug.

"Besides, I don't know when they're getting up," I say referring to my dad and brother. "So I might as well leave before I accidentally wake them up."

Mom and I are the early birds in this house- me, technically being the earliest bird- while Brent and dad sleep in. If they wake up before 10 o'clock hits then something's up. It's odd because while you'd think that not being an early bird automatically makes you a night owl you'd be wrong with those two. They're like evening hawks- strange creatures I tell you. The only time it really sucks is at Christmas when I'm forced to sit around and wait hours for them to get up.

"Well, if you're going over to grandma and grandpa's make sure you leave a note for them for when they do wake up."

"Got it."

Before she decides to depart, she gives me the sympathetical look I was trying to avoid all day yesterday with her.

"Are you over yesterday?" She asks, kind of defeating the purpose of her question.

"I mean, I was until you brought it up again."

Being my mom, she can sense when I become passive aggressive and so she holds up her hands, trying to pacify me.

"Just asking, sheesh."

I let out an aggregated sigh into my mug.

"Okay, mom."

Rolling her eyes at me, she goes to kiss me goodbye.

"Have you thought about joining the drama club?" She teases as she kisses my cheek.

I playfully swat her away, "Nora told me the same thing."

"You never know," She winks at me. "You could be the next Meryl Streep."

"I'd still rather be the next Usain Bolt."

"I figured you would," Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she heads off. "See you this afternoon."

"Bye, mom."

As I hear the front door open and shut, I resume sipping my coffee. Speaking of running, I should probably get ready for my morning jog.

Since I might as well cut over to my grandparent's house anyway after my jog, I jot down a quick note explaining where I am for my dad and brother, not that they'll be up in time to read it. tossing out the rest of the coffee in my mug, I head upstairs, change into my jogging sweats, fill my water bottle, then start out in the crisp, morning summer air.

Being a busybody and the fastest girl in town, I need to keep on top of my running. Sometimes my mom or dad or even Brent, on rare occasions, will get up early enough to join me, but usually I'm out on my own which is kind of what I prefer since it gives me time to empty my conscious for the rest of the day. It's not like they can keep up with me anyway- even when I jog I outpace them.

My usual route is always increasing as building stamina is a crucial part of my training. I remember when my parents would only allow me to run up and down our street, never farther. Eventually, I started to be allowed to go farther and farther until now I pretty much jog through the whole town in under twenty minutes (if focused and running every now and then).

By the time I end up at the edge of my grandparent's driveway, I check my stopwatch to see my time.

14:22.

Not my best but certainly not my worst.

Still, after yesterday, there needs to be some redemption on my part if I'm ever to live that traumatic moment down- yes, to me it was traumatizing, traumatizing I tell you.

The earliness of the day doesn't faze me since my grandparents are most likely awake seeing how they're older folks and retired now. They spend their golden years how you'd assume most old folks would: bingo, volunteering, vacationing, the good life.

As I'm fishing out the hidden, spare key I helped them hide, I'm hoping some fast acting, sudden dementia has set in so they don't remember me blabbing about trying out for varsity.

I don't bother making my presence known as they're pretty much used to my unannounced visits to my second unofficial home. First things first, though, food.

Raiding the pantry in search of some fruits snacks, I settle for some granola bars and go to town on the box. As I'm opening my third bar, grandma enters the kitchen, not even startled, like I knew she wouldn't be, to see me.

"You just come in?" She asks eying the box.

"You know it," I reply, mouth full of granola.

My grandma's another person who gets me perfectly- of course I'd never be as uncensored around her as I am with Clifford or Brent, but she knows how to rein me in enough where I'm back on track but not boxed in.

Plucking out one for herself, she starts to unwrap it. "Anything new on the homefront?"

"Just the same plain old things, you know."

She copies my meager shrug. "Same here. I've been trying to get your grandpa to go down to the islands on this cruise so we can see the turtles and maybe go spelunking."

"You can bring me if he doesn't want to go," I offer. "I need a break."

"You? A break? I never dreamed you, Miss Hyper, would ever say that."

"Eh, I'm calming down the older I get, ya know."

"Of course you are."

Smiling, I point the end of my granola at her. "Hey, I am. I'm finally maturing."

"Well, don't grow up too quickly. There's still so much to enjoy while you're this age."

I see where this is going so I try to pump the breaks before it becomes a runaway train of life lessons that I'm not looking for.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," The rest of the bar gets stuffed into my mouth. "But none of that's about this. What it's about is going on a cruise to see turtles and stuff. It can be a grandma granddaughter bonding cruise, what'd'ya say?"

She chuckles and shakes her head at me. "Maybe when you're older."

"See! You do get to have more fun the older you get."

"There's a lot of fun things only younger people get to do that older people don't."

Leaning back in my chair, I cock my head. "Like what?"

"Go out partying, be models-"

"Pfft, like I could be a model. Besides, old people can model as well and still party."

She shakes her head ruefully at me again. "The grass isn't always greener-"

"On the other side, I know, but, eh, we always want what we can't have."

"Very true, now start believing it."

Another reason I love hanging out at my grandparents' house is the fact that it's so peaceful and slowed down- cause they're older folks and everything. For a girl like myself, who speed is everything, it's refreshing to slow down whenever I pass by. Unfortunately, I can't stay in slow-mo for long, though- that'd be a punishment for me.

I'm about good for an hour, so I hang with my grandma, who insists on putting me through hell (a.k.a putting together a 1000 piece puzzle) but I, luckily, I ditch her by chilling with grandpa watching golf- not the best switch but way better than what I was forced into. Unfortunately, my need for the fast-paced returns in full force after an hour expires.

Popping up from the couch, I announce, "I'm going to explore outside."

Grandpa already has drool dribbling down his face so my announcement is mainly just for grandma who's so into that damn puzzle I might as well have just said I'm going to shoot up the town, rob a bank, hitchhike down to Vegas, bang a prostitute then marry him and have five kids whose names all start with the letter F (cause that's my favorite letter, FYI) and she would have waved me off the same as she is now.

With their trailer being smack dab in the middle of a forest, there's plenty of outdoors to explore. This semi-circle of forest holds a lot of fond memories for me actually; Brent and I used to act out scenes from books, movies, shows, and other things in these woods when we were real little. It's lame looking back on it now but to two kids whose combined IQ was probably a whopping 50, it was everything.

Now, I haven't fully grown out of that childish view of this place- seeing as my IQ probably hasn't increased exponentially- but I can see it in a different light now.

As I travel to an insignificant looking stream that's tucked a little ways away, I breathe a sigh of relief they didn't bring up the varsity disaster.

I remember mom telling me she used to be scared of these woods when she was younger but discovered how interesting it was the older she got.

Honestly, not calling my mom a wuss or anything, but how can anyone possibly be scared of these woods, at all? I mean, I guess at night it might be a bit unnerving but how scary can some trees clustered together be scary to anyone? Unless there's a phobia of that, of course. As for me, if I wasn't gunning it for a spot in the Olympics, my goals for my life would be becoming the perfect recluse in a creepy forest, that way no one will want to explore it and annoy me.

Passing by a spot that usually is spotted with some scattered shrubs- that grow out here for some reason- I usually pay them no mind, but that's mostly because they're never glowing like they are today. One shrub, in particular, glows the brightest in the midst of the light fest.

And when I say glowing, this thing isn't merely faintly pulsing with a weak, beckoning glow, it's shooting out blue-ish beams like it's hosting a rage party underneath it!

At first, I pause, waiting to see what else might happen. After a few seconds, I creep closer to it. Now, I'm intrigued.

"But I swear, if it starts calling 'Joan', I'm out."

After several seconds, with nothing else magical happening and my squirrelly attention span waning, the magic bush starts to lose my interest and I have thoughts about just moving on and storing this memory for future reference. Yeah, not even magical, glowing bushes can't keep my attention these days.

I would walk away if it wasn't for a vine of light (best way I can describe it) wrapping itself around my ankle. At first, it's merely an annoyance, but when it yanks me to the ground and starts dragging me towards the bush, we have a problem. At this point, I wouldn't mind as much if the bush did start calling my name.

"What the-"

With tremendous force- for light that is- I'm being dragged like a fish on a hook.

"Get off," I grunt, trying to somehow get loose. "Come on!"

I try using my free foot to kick at the sentient light, but before I know it, my other ankle is seized and now it's a speedy drag towards hell, or wherever this light is taking me.

Okay, now I'm actually half-concerned it is pulling me down towards hell. I mean, where else could I be going?

"Well, I always knew the devil had it out for me."

Between the fact I'm not entirely sure where this bush is taking me (I'm curious to a fault) and I'm not the kind of girl to call for help in times where help might be desirable, I go pretty damn easy down the hole in the midst of the bush. The second the ground vanishes from under me, the light that was tightly bound around my ankles dissolves into darkness as well. All around me, darkness swells and it's all I can see- even the small dot of light from above is drowned out by the pitch blackness around me. I should have taken the time to scream and put up a fight.

Now I know for sure that I'm going to hell.