Stolen Jerseys One Shot Comp

Allison's POV

What an asshole... what a fucking asshole!

Growling under my breath, I grabbed my bag off my shoulder, digging for my key.

Where the hell is it?!

I paused for a moment.

There.

I stalked up the walkway, still muttering a few choice words as I found the house key buried in my school bag. It took me a million tries, but finally I was able to push the key into the slot, and open the door.

I was so angry that when I threw open the door, it flew back and smacked into the wall with a loud snap.

"Holy shit!" I heard a voice yelp and saw a figure diving behind the couch. "Elle, a serial killer broke in!" Whoever it was sounded completely and utterly terrified.

With a roll of my eyes, I realized who it was. "Uncle Con, chill out. If I was a real serial killer, you'd be my first target, just because of how idiotic you can be. You don't say that kinda thing in front of a murderer!"

Uncle Connor's head popped up over the top of the couch, his eyes wary as he looked me up and down. "Allie, is that you?"

"No." I deadpanned. "I'm the fucking serial killer, sent to exterminate you."

Connor rolled his eyes, letting out an extremely unattractive snort. "I knew it." Despite the fact that Connor looked like he was gonna shit his pants just from the thought of a serial killer, he acted completely normal as if he did not just freak out.

"So Allie... what's gotten you so angry?"

I glared at him. "I'm not angry." Uncle Con rolled his eyes, and I groaned, dropping my bag by the front door. "Fine, I admit it. I'm fucking pissed off, and your not helping."

"Language." Connor laughed. "And just an FYI, you're about as intimidating as a baby squirrel."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Because you were screaming about a serial killer just minutes ago." I stepped further into the house as I spoke.

Connor waved me off. "Fine fine, maybe not a squirrel. But your definitely as scary as a kitten, no more."

A kitten wasn't much better then a squirrel.

"Speaking of kittens, where's Miguel?" I asked, looking around the living room for the cat in question.

I say kitten, but honestly Miguel was old. In fact, he was almost 21 years old. Miguel had lived with my dad and Uncle Con for a years; I grew up with him around. No matter how many times Dad tried to give Miguel to Connor, or get rid of him, he never could. Dad always tells me how he's the spawn of Satan, seeing as the cat always steals his boxers, although the older he gets, the less active he is.

Despite the fact that Miguel does have his moments, I think that his boxer stealing days are long behind him.

Connor shrugged. "I don't know, last I saw he was hanging around outside."

Just as I was about to go find him, I heard footsteps coming from the hallway on the left, where my parent's bedroom was. My mom soon appeared, all dressed up and beautiful with her blonde hair curled and pinned up, wearing a short tight dress that had navy blue, green and teal sequins in stripes for the skirt paired with a black bodice, and a pair of black pumps in her hands. The outfit totally complimented her eyes, and she looked absolutely stunning.

I always wished I looked more like my mom. Instead of her gorgeous blonde hair, I was stuck with brown. Not even a good brown like my dads; a dull, unless brown that hung unattractively from my shoulders, for the most part straight but occasionally wavy.