Fiction
Jacob’s Room By Tatum Stanley
I lugged myself up the stairs and past Jacob’s room. I didn’t even stop to acknowledge its gloomy presence. I didn’t need to add to the unfortunate mood I was already in. As I entered the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My dark brown hair was loosely held back in a ponytail, and my pale skin was glistening from sweat. Even though I didn’t play in the game today, nothing was stopping the sun from draining every ounce of energy I had left in me. I never really minded seeing my own reflection until recently, but I think that is just because the person I see now is not the person I knew I was. A lot has changed in the past few weeks. The showerhead whistled as I twisted the hot-water knob all the way to the left. I wasn’t really in the mood to wait for the water to heat up, so I climbed in. The cold water pierced my skin as I watched my feet and legs turn purple. I could feel the hairs stand up on my forearms as I slowly regained my breath. I guess that’s what I get for being impatient, but I come by it honestly. “Alexis, get out of the shower!” my mother yelled up the stairs. “Alexis, dinner has been on the table for ten minutes now.” “I just got in,” I called back. “Alexis!” Like I said, I come by it honestly. I quickly shampooed and conditioned my hair. I scrubbed down my body, and by this point, the water had started to warm up a little. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the frigid temperature. “Alexis!” my mom made one final call up the stairs. I didn’t even respond this time. I simply turned off the shower and retreated to my bedroom. When I “finally” got downstairs, she and my father were already seated around the 46
