Given to Fly

"Marty! Wake up!" A boy's voice shouted, muffled behind the door. "Mom made breakfast!"

"Okay." Martha Walker emerged from her bed, stretching as her bare feet hit the hard wood floors of her room. She stood and navigated her cluttered floor as she walked to her chair piled with clothes. She had a dresser, but she never used it.

The teen dug through her heap before finding her desired outfit: ripped jeans, Pearl Jam t-shirt, and flannel-under-jacket combo. Sure, Nevada was hot, but that never stopped her from wearing cool jackets.

She moved to her dresser and searched for her glasses. Her vision wasn't horrible, but if she didn't wear her lenses her eyes would ache. Once she could see without pain, Marty grabbed her hairbrush and began to comb through her thick brown locks. Her front bangs were blondish when the sun hit them, creating a natural gradient in her hair. Her hazel eyes held the same disinterested look they always did. Once she was finished, she grabbed her black sneakers and tied them, tripping over herself as she made her way out her bedroom door.

The smell of bacon and eggs hit her like a freight train. Marty walked down the stairs and rounded a corner to find her Aunt Dana cooking over the stove.

"There you are, Martha." She said with a stern tone. "One of these days you're going to be late for school and not going to be able to make up."

Good old Aunt Dana, a middle aged woman in decent shape with blue eyes and blonde hair. She was the mother to Marty's four cousins, and the wife of her Uncle Joe. She wasn't terribly fussy, but there were days that Marty wanted get out of the house more often.

No, Marty wasn't an orphan. Her dad worked for some big wig company and traveled a lot, meaning he never had time for Marty and her mother. Tired of the single mother lifestyle, Marty's mother left him, leaving the girl alone. Marty's father, Jake Walker, didn't know what to do with his daughter so he gave her to his brother Joe to raise.

Speak of the devil, Uncle Joe walked in the kitchen. "Mornin', Marty." He said with a smile. He had the same brown hair and hazel eyes she did, an trait she gained from her father.

"Morning, Uncle Joe." Marty said as she took a seat at the table. She needed to eat her food before–

"Breakfast!!" Three young kids, two girls and a boy, ages 10, 8, and 4 rushed down the stairs, pushing and shoving their way to the breakfast table. Behind them came an older boy of seventeen. All had the same unruly brown hair and hazel eyes.

Marty didn't mind living with her cousins, but they could be loud at times. She was about to take a bite of her toast when Adrian, the oldest boy, snagged it out of her hands.

"Gotta be faster than that, Four Eyes." He said with a cocky smirk.

Marty scowled. He was two years older than her, yet he acted like he was closer to Brenna the 10 year old's age. She held her foot out, tripping the older teen as she snagged her toast back. Her lips quirked up in a smirk.

"Mom, Adrian and Marty are fighting again!" Annie, the 8 year old, snitched.

"I'm a bit busy. Ask your father." Aunt Dana said as she plated the bacon.

"Dad!" Benny, the youngest said.

"Listen to your mother." Uncle Joe said as he read the paper.

"But she didn't say anything!" Annie retorted.

Marty chewed her toast in silence, watching the family interact. This is how it was every morning, unless it was Sunday, then every one but Benny and Annie were sleeping in.