Clueless

01||Letter

"Both of you. Apolagize to me now". She huffs, her face red with anger.

"Sorry ummi", we said simultaneously.

She continues,"Now to each other".

"Hell no".
"Yuck".

Both of us look away.

She pulled harder, i feel like my ears are about to fall off. "O-ow ow okay okay!", i finally back down.

"I'm sorry". I grit out, but the words feels too salty in my mouth.

"Whatever", he scoffs and that earned another piercing glare from ummi.

"Fine- sorry!", he declares in defeat.

She finally lets both of us go and we fell to the floor trying to be a man and hold the tears from the recent ear burn.

This is all your fault! I talk to him with my eyes. But he responds with an eye roll, whatever. Dummy.

That jerk-

"Okay, okay. Enough is enough, both of you are no longer kids so stop fighting like one. Yusuf, you're already an adult and i expect to see you act like one". Dad demands. But as always, when it comes to my nutcase of a brother, any of his advices or demands always falls into deaf ears.

Then dad turns to face me," and Aiyla.. you know better than to let your anger get the best of you". He looks at me with a face than i can only assume, is disappointment.

Tch. Why am i the one to blame?

It's clearly his fault.

"Let's all just relax and have a peaceful family dinner for once, alright?", he asks, expecting an answer.

"Alright".
"Okay".

We sighed.

They say teamwork makes the dream work. I can assure you it's true. My mom, being the vicious disciplinarian is the person incharge of the household, taking care, feeding and providing our needs. And handle our daily bickering.
Then, comes my dad, the man with the final say. His house, his rules. That's what kept the Yasir household safe from utter chaos.

Compared to ummi, he might be the more easy going parent, but if you go against him multiple times, then you should just fake an identity and live in Antarctica. Because he can be more terrifying than my mother, and that says a lot.

However, despite the fact that we fight like we're about to commit murder to one another, me and my siblings somehow managed to live to see each other another day.

Don't get me wrong, i love my family and all but too much of them eventually stir me up into histerics. Well what do you expect with a house of eight people with a thousand characteristics each am i right?

Especially my dimwit of a brother. He's a special case. Man's got Allah knows how many attitudes in there.

In this house, it's almost impossible for it to be peaceful or silent for more than half an hour. And to be honest, i prefer it that way because too much hollow silence freaks me out.