Rough Road Ahead (In Progress)

Chapter 8

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            When I awoke the next morning, Brad was gone. I was lying on the pillow that he had brought out the night prior and the blankets were wrapped around me. Had he put them there? Or had I stole them during the night? I couldn't be certain. 

            Yawning I stood up and climbed down the ladder back into the trailer with the blankets and pillow draped over my arm. Closing the door behind me I threw the blankets and pillow on the sofa before going back into my bedroom to see that Max was still fast asleep. It was later in the day so I shook him, waking him up, "hey, it's morning." I smiled and he crawled from the bed, peeling the blankets back and stepping out sleepily.

            Sam was fast asleep in the upper bunk, but I didn't want to wake him. My arm still hurt from the day before and I wasn't yet ready to forgive him. Maybe I was being over-sensitive, but I had never been a very malleable person, and that fact wasn't going to change.

            Brad was awake and in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast. Sitting down on the sofa I turned the TV on low just as Sam walked out of the bedroom. He didn't look at me, and instead sat in the Lazy-Boy recliner in silence. I was beginning to think he was angrier at me than I was at him, and that didn't help me to forgive him in the least.

            I could hear Brad in the kitchen putting something in the microwave as I focused my attentions on the TV, but I found it hard to follow, my mind was in other places.

            Taking a deep breath I felt my stomach growl and climbed to my feet, hoping that whatever Brad was making was enough for two people. A loud crashing sound came from the kitchen so I hurriedly climbed to my feet and I picked up speed, "what happed?" I asked seeing smoke fill the room. Brad was standing in the mist of it, his hand covering his mouth. There were flames shooting out of the small stainless steal microwave. Quickly I pushed him out of the way and closed it, hoping to smoother the flames within. The fire alarm started to go off, awaking everyone in the trailer and sending them all running for the kitchen. "What's happening now?!" My mother screamed.

            "Open the windows!" I yelled as I opened the one above the sink watching as the room started to clear. Brad ran and opened the living room's windows too and soon the air was transparent once more.

            Brad looked sheepish as our attentions turned from the fire to him, "what did you put in the microwave?" My mother questioned, frustration invading her tone.

            Brad rolled his eyes, "It wasn't my fault, all I did was make some pop corn and the damn thing burst into flames!" He said, moving his hands as he spoke for effect.

            "Pop corn?" My mother questioned, "please don't tell me you put the stove-top popcorn in the microwave." She put her head in her hands.

            Brad thought about it for a moment then back tracked, "how was I supposed to know?"

            Sam yawned, stepping out from behind my mother, "because it says it right on the damn label!" He yelled, his voice sounding whiny.

            Brad rolled his eyes, "whatever." He murmured and walked off.

            My dad climbed into the front of the trailer, "we're almost there people, please don't burn down the place for the next ten hours."

            Brad sat in his Lazy-Boy chair and scoffed as he played on his iPhone.

            I was tired and walked back into the bedroom and Sam followed me, "I can't handle him anymore." He scoffed his back up against the white panel bedroom door.