Kelly POV
When I wake up, there's an obvious shift in the air that sizzles through my veins like an unstoppable wildfire.
Hmmm. How strange.
I spring up into a sitting position, only to bang my head straight on the freaking ceiling, to which I react by yelping. I rub at my forehead very gently as it continues to ache.
An eruption of laughter splits the room, and I wrench my throbbing head to the side to find my sister, Penelope, sitting cross legged on her bed. She's got a blonde lock wrapped tightly around a curling iron. I can smell her hair burning from here.
She's at the tender age of 16, and yet she follows in Tressa's footsteps of primping and polishing every single morning.
Not that that's an inherently bad thing, but sometimes it just gets a bit excessive. Okay, maybe a lot excessive.
But hey, if that's what they how they want to spend literal hours of their precious time on, then that's their prerogative.