Despite the Hysteria

Mutilation at it's best.

"We're back." I raise my voice as my two dumb brothers wrestle roughly in the middle of the hallway. As I shut the door behind me, Oli shoves Leo up against the wall, his hands fisted in his shirt. I tap his shoulder and he looks back to smile crookedly at me.

"Welcome home, sister." He remarks, throwing a wink over at me. He pays no attention to a writhing Leo squished against the wall by him. Leo stops his struggles and reaches a hand out to grab a handful of Oli's brunette hair and yanks it to the side. Oli clenches his jaw shut from the pain but emits a loud, "Fuck."

"Yeah, how'd you like that, pretty boy?" Leo taunts and launches himself off the wall, sending Oli and himself to the floor. "Teach you to fucking answer my phone."

Mama must have heard the ruckus beacuse not a second later she scuttles into the room, drying her hands on her blue apron and looks down at the boys.

"What are you boys doing? I just cleaned those floors." She scolds and pushes her hands onto her hips, her foot tapping harshly as she glares down at the twins. "Get up and one of you go help your father out front. Be useful for once!"

 The boys grumble in agreement, upset their rough-housing had been interrupted and move to get up. Unfortunately for Oli, Leo's knee 'slipped' and got a good shot at Oli's man junk. He's now rolling around the floor like a baby.

I stand and watch in amusement as Oli unknowingly makes mama madder and madder as she watches her recently cleaned floors get dirtied by her eldest son. Leo looks down at his handy-work and smirks proudly before turning and walking over to me. He receives a smack to the back of his head by the fuming woman on the way.

"That was low." I state as Leo stands beside me. He crosses his arms across his chest and watches Oli squirm on the floor. "You're such a whore."

He pauses before turning around and shoving his hand in my face. "Nuh uh, girlfriend." He says and does the head bob thing while he snaps his fingers. I stare at him for a long, awkward moment before I slowly shake my head in disbelief.

 "Why do you always talk like a black American girl out of a movie?"  

He sighs and looks up at the ceiling as if asking some higher power for help. I still haven't told my family I'm Mother Teresa reincarnated. 

"Oh no, she did-int!" he cries and clicks his fingers in my face. 

I shoot him an amused look and shake my head. Leo and I turn to see if there has been any progress made with Oli, but only find Mama standing over him and telling him to get up.

Sighing in dissapointment, Leo turns and makes his way to the front door and.I turn to follow him, seeing as nothing interesting is going to happen inside. Just before I get to the door though, Leo walks through and slams it shut behind him. Leaving me, the girl who has no hand-eye co-ordination skills whatsoever, to walk straight into it and receive a nasty gash to the head.

"Ow, ow! Mother-fucking ouch." I whine and jump up and down, holding my forhead tightly with my hands. Mama deserts Oli when she hears me swearing my head off and scuttles over to see what all the fuss is about. She stands next to me, holding my shoulders down and standing on the tips of her toes trying to get a look at my abused head. As she inspects my forhead, I look over her shoulder to see Oli still lying on the floor, only this time overcome by laughter. It better not be from the mutilation of my head. He should know by now, Teresa's payback is a mega bitch.

Mama gives me a quick kiss on my forhead before launching herself out the front door screaming, "Leonaldo Michelle Quentin, for gods sake child. I will disown you if you don't show yourself right this minute!"

Yeah, his middle name is Michelle, prounced mick-ay-la. So many noses have been needlessly broken over it.

Needing to see the damage, I walk over to the over-sized mirror we have leaning against the wall in the hallway and carefully inspect my battle wound. The gash was only a few centimeters long and ran from my hairline to my left temple. What's wierd though, is that for such a small cut, it was bleeding rather profusely and smothered my forhead in blood. Maybe I have Hemophilia. I'll have to ask the ladies at the old folks home when I can.