At about four in the morning, I finally took myself and my baby back to my house. I didn't want to wake anyone, so instead of putting it in the garage, I propped my motorcycle up next to a large oak tree on our front lawn and snuck into my room through the window.

I woke up late the next morning due to my long night. When I rolled over to check my clock, I realized with a start that it wasn't morning at all. It was two in the afternoon. Why did no one wake me? I needed to get Cassie from her house. I didn't normally sleep that late, because I always liked to give Cassie an excuse to leave.

I quickly threw off the covers and stumbled to the bathroom. I took a fast shower and texted Cassie, asking what she wanted to do today.

C: We could get tattoos.

R: Sure, why not?

C: Cool! Meet me there in 10?

R: Yep.

With that plan of action in mind, I headed to my closet to pick out clothes for the day. After some consideration, I settled on a coral-colored crop top and skinny jeans with ghostly figures dancing on them. I paired this with high-heeled, black boots with studs down the sides. Lastly, I did my makeup smokey eye and applied my favorite bright, red hooker lipstick.

When I was finally ready, I grabbed a handbag and walked to the foot of the stairs. Once there, I hesitated. On impulse, I veered off to my sister's room down the hall and barged in.

Carrie was laying on her bed, eating a bag of cheddar chips and watching Supernatural, her blonde hair piled atop her head in a messy bun that still managed to look attractive on her. She was wearing denim cutoffs, a translucent white shirt, and her favorite teardrop necklace.

"What do you want?" she demanded as I stepped through the doorway. Jesus, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. "Did anyone come check on me while I was asleep?" I asked her, maneuvering around her meticulous piles of magazines.

Everything in Carrie's room was completely organized - from the colored cubbies on the far wall to her large walk-in closet on the opposite wall. Even her desk, which held her laptop, two books with sparkly bookmarks sticking out of them, her stereo, and a stack of CDs, was neat and organized. Her flat-screen TV was hung just so on her wall, so eerily straight that it annoyed me. Her dresser with all of her other clothes in it had an assortment of random knick knacks strategically placed on the top of it. More teardrop necklaces dangled from her overhead fan, which was never on. Posters of kittens and the beach and ocean littered her walls, as well as newspaper clippings about writing contests and black-and-white pictures of lighthouses. Also seen were Supernatural and Blue Bloods posters. Her walls were painted a beautiful shade of orange. I called it sunset glow because it looked exactly like the color of the setting sun.

In short, her room was the polar opposite of my own. My walls were painted an aqua blue color, and were covered in band posters, advertisements for cool toys, TV show posters, and pictures of the moon and the stars at night.

My room wasn't horribly messy, but it wasn't as neat as Carrie's room. On the right side of my door, there was a large, overflowing trash can that mostly contained chip bags and donut wrappers. Beside that was my walk-in closet, where I kept all of my clothes and shoes except for my underwear, socks, and sleep shirts. It was lit from ceiling to floor with strings of fairy lights that Cassie gave me for my birthday last year.

On the wall that my closet was on was my dresser, which contained all of my underwear, socks, and sleep shirts, as well as all of my blankets and quilts. The top of my dresser held a large glass bowl that was filled with money. I called it my 'go-to' money bowl. Whenever I needed money for anything, I would get it from the bowl. The last thing on that wall was my bathroom.

I had a fairly large bathroom. It had a nice shower and a very nice bathtub. The room used to be my parents', before they added their master bedroom extension to the house. On the opposite wall, my bed was propped against it. My large window was only a few feet away from the end of my bed, which had sky blue sheets and a comforter that portrayed dolphins and other ocean animals. In contrast, my pillowcases were completely different colors. The first pillowcase was bright, neon pink, and the second was a deep orange.

Underneath the window, there was a part of the wall that jutted out. I called this my 'window seat' as I often liked to toss a quilt over the rough wood, sit, and watch the city at night. A few bean bags were strewn here and there.

I had a blanket fort made in the middle of my room, lit by fairy lights. I made it with two chairs and all of my old blankets that I didn't use anymore. Inside, I stowed my laptop, a mountain of stuffed animals, an extra pillow, another blanket to cover up with, a huge Halloween candy bowl that held bags of chips, donuts, crackers, bottles of water, candy, and bags of that pre-prepared popcorn, and a collection of movies, everything from The Conjuring to The Lion King.

On the far wall, my desk was pushed against the other window in the room. My desk was a bit messy, but in my defense, it usually held a few different handbags, some books, my phone, my tablet, all of my chargers, and a box full of all of my keepsakes. Above my desk, my own flat screen TV was perched.

The last thing in my room and, by far, my favorite thing, was the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling.

Our rooms were both very nice, but the mood in each of them couldn't have been more different.

"No," Carrie answered my question, snapping me from my thoughts. "Oh," I said, disappointment lacing my tone.

I thought they would have at least went in to check on me.

I guess not.