First To Be Last

10. Party Popper

THIS COULD NOT BE HAPPENING AGAIN. "I. Cannot. Do. This. Anymoooreeee!" Thea muffled-screamed into her pillow, in order not to wake up the whole house.
It was the third time this week. She fucking hated men. And one man had just made it in the top of her list. The same man that kept appearing into her dreams, making her go nuts each time she woke up.

Whining, she threw herself back with her head onto the pillow, her eyes painted at the ceiling. She hadn't been to school in over 3 months, not because she couldn't, simply because she did not feel the need to any longer. The school she did do was enough, she could read and write, she knew poetry, history, maths and geography. Biology wasn't her strongest suit, but she managed keeping a good grade, even there. Her school years had ended. That's part of the reason why she remained awake, even if at two o'clock in the morning, to contemplate her and Isiah's relationship.

At this point, she just wanted to wake Ada up, and have a long talk about boys, like any sisters do. But her sister was God-knows-where, already nursing for her child. And Polly would just tell her to shut up and leave these thoughts to when she's older.

It was almost their birthday, hers and Finns. They'd soon be turning sixteen of age. Christ, how did the time go by. It was as if only a few months ago they were fignting over who could take the gun they had found on the table, unsupervised. Actually, that really was just a few months ago. Now, it was winter. The times changed.

Isiah had already turned seventeen, still, he still sounded like a ten year old, much to Dorothea's dislike, who would beg for him to act just a little more mature. But the only maturness about him were his features, who, now, she could agree, did make him look more like a man.

With one last whine, she placed her hands on her face, rotating her whole body but forgetting it had an end, and loudly hitting the floor. "Ouch-" she whispered, scatching her head. Suddenly, she heard hurried footsteps and her door being fastly opened. Tommy. He seemed alert, serious, even. It was the middle of the night, what did he do again? She stared at him from near the bed. "May I help you, brother dear?"

He exhaled silently, the corners of his mouth slowly turning into a half-smile. "You know, you used to do that a lot when you were younger."

Thea scruched her eyebrows "Do what? Fall off the bed?"

"Yes, fall of the bed, then cry for someone to tell you a story." He spoke, looking at his sister who was now almost grown, but still so young. "You wouldn't go back to sleep without one."

Dorothy tilted her head, "Well, given I'm the most literate out ot all of yous..."

"Eh, cheeky you are.." He chuckled, studying his shoes. He hadn't slept in a while, Thea could tell, for she knew how he looked when he came back from the war. He had the same look on his face. Worn through. At barely over twenty years old, he was already worn through. "What's happened, Tom?" She asked, "You havin' nightmares again?"

He shook his head, "Don't you worry about that, you've got other stuff."

The girl gave him an unsure expression, getting un from her place on the floor, "Yeah? Such as?"

Well, she got him there. Ballet, she quit. School, she quit.

"Shoes? Dresses? I ain't Ada, I don't 'av a fuckin' clue." Her brother joked, leaving her to shake her head disapprovingly. "Life ain't all about dresses and shoes. I shouldn't be the one to tell you that, I'm the girl here!"

"Very funny, Dorothy. Go back to bed, go on." He urged her, gesturing with his hand towards the bed. "Wait!" She stopped him.

"You think I could call Ada? On the family phone?"