Love the Quiet Ones

Chapter 18 ~ Family Outing Invitation. Make that a Plus One

Over 10k reads? What? I need to check that again. Oh wow. It's true. Dangitty I feel loved.

Now if only I wrote things that people commented on...

Maybe if I felt the loves more I'd write an explanation about that fork, no? *wink, wink* *nudge, nudge*

One more thing. I've kind of forgotten the names of some characters. I had to go back and check. Those characters include Anthony, Josh, and Adam's last name. So in case you've forgotten too Anthony is Adam's little brother, Josh is Adam's only male friend, and I'm still not sure on their last name. Yippee.

:|:Family Outing Invitation. Make that a Plus One:|:

:|:Chapter 18:|:

Adam

~ I roared into the sink, I swear to god I've been doing dishes since the dawn of time. I sat with my hands in the soapy water, feeling them prune even as the seconds ticked by. I really hate dishes, I gazed at the open space beside the sink, that's where a dishwasher belongs, why don't we have one?

I drained the sink hastily after half an hour, my little brother wandered into the room.

"Hey there Buddy," I greeted him with a smile. He wasn't amused.

"Don't call me Buddy, don't talk to me other than when necessary, don't bring your friends over, don't take my tv, don't talk about me, don't gesture to me, don't even look at me," he counted off on his fingers. Anthony shot me with a death glare, "have I made myself clear?"

Damn, little man's got quite the superiority complex. Should I be impressed? I nodded to him mutely, it seemed a better option than telling him something like, "K! Love you too!" Or "Anthony! That hurts" which were the only audible responses I could come up with. Yes, nodding works better.

Anthony left and I packed up my stuff, heading out the door after him. He was already waiting in my car, pretending I don't exist. I hope I can attribute his behavior towards me as being a teenager. By god I hope so. I mean, he is my only brother, holidays would be awkward in the future if he just hates me because he actually can't stand my existence.

My mother creeped into the room silently, like she had a tendency to do. She worked, I knew that, but I had no idea where or what she did. Not even my father knew. If I wasn't such a mature child like I am, I would think she's a spy for the CIA. Background music played for my inner monologue. She can't tell her family or closest friends, afraid to put them in danger. She can't breathe a word of it and get she finds herself using her honed skills in the home. The music sputtered, growing louder. Disappearing and reappearing as if by magic. Silent footsteps even on the creakiest surfaces of the old house. She tries to hide her secret, the only people that know are her bosses, not even her colleagues. They could sell her out. Put her family in harm's way. The music was reaching its climax, filling my mind with a sense of urgency. It was a lonely existence, but one she had chosen herself.

She's probably just a secretary.

I acted out my thoughts subconsciously. My hands raised to my face in a finger gun as I stalked around the open bathroom doorway, pointing the finger barrel at my mother's head. The music was slinking in, louder, faster, desperate, panicked. I plucked the safety off, whispering, "bang-"

My mother slapped my hand down before I even finished the word, causing me to "shoot" the cabinet doors. She then proceeded to slap me lightly across the face, it was swift. I hadn't even seen it coming. "Mind telling me what you were doing?"

I stared at her, my voice was barely more than a incredulous rasp, "are you a spy for the CIA?"

She gave me a stern look, "that's ridiculous." She walked away, I heard her soft foot steps on the stairs. They were faint but she was making an effort to be heard.