Rough Morning

                                    

                                          
Violet woke up to her deafening alarm clock ringing in her ears. She grumbled and buried herself back into her blanket.
                          
“Violet, breakfast is ready!” Bob called from the kitchen downstairs.
                          
Violet let out a heavy, aggravated sigh. She pushed the blankets off of her and rubbed her eyes.
                          
“Violet!”
“In a minute, Dad!” Violet yelled.
                          
She slammed the button of her alarm to make it shut up.
                          
She sighed and ran a hand through her inky, disheveled hair hanging in her face.
                          
She couldn't make herself stand up and walk out of bed. Her eyelids were heavy. She wanted to stay in her room all day if she could.
                          
She slowly got up. She dragged her feet towards a nearby dresser. On top was sitting a picture of her and Tony, the once handsome and kind brunet she was dating. Her eyebrows furrowed as she slung the picture off the dresser, it falling against a pile of disorganized clothing on the floor.
                          
She silently stood there for a moment, then began to walk down to the kitchen.

                          
“Boys are jerks and superheroes suck.” Violet pouted, plopping down into her seat with a huff.
                          
“Now, Vi, you'll get over it,” Bob said, placing a plate of pancakes in front of her. He looked at Violet, who was now glaring at him.
                          
“Don't give me that 'you'll get over it’, Bob.” Violet grouched.
                          
Dash chuckled.
                          
“He took one look at me in that suit, and decided to pretend he doesn't even know me.” Violet explained as she pushed her plate aside and rested her head against her palm.
                          
“Oh, he's protecting himself.” Bob replied.
                          
‘If he really saw you, it's best that he forgets,” Bob began, shuffling through the refrigerator, “it's better for you, too. I can't tell you how many memories Dicker's had to erase, over the years, when someone figured out your mother's or my identity.” he finished.
                          
Violet's eyes shot open as her eyebrows furrowed. “It was Dicker!” she shouted, slamming her fists on the table, the plates and glasses clattering at once.
                          
“You told him about Tony!” she yelled.
“Honey-”
“You had me erased from Tony's mind!” Violet added.
                          
Bob glanced at Violet, letting out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I did. And-” he paused. “And I'm sorry.”
                          
He watched as the school bus drove across the road beside the yard.
                          
“Whatever. The bus is here anyways.” Violet grumbled, shoving her chair away from the table and slinging on her backpack.
                          
Dash hastily shoved his books into his backpack and ran out the house.
                          
Violet, dragging her feet across the ground outside, glanced at the bus. It stopped with a loud woosh as the doors slowly creaked open.
                          
She didn't want to go to school at all. She didn't want to see Tony's face again.
                          
She looked out at the neighborhood. She could play hookey. Just for one day. It wasn't a big deal. Her dad probably wouldn't scold her.
                          
“Vi! What are you doing?!” Dash yelled from the bus. “Hurry up and get in!” he added.
                          
Violet paused.
                          
“There's no way I'm going on that bus!” Violet said, running off across the sidewalk. Dash watched her run off. “Lucky.” he mumbled.