Keeping A Straight Face | ✔

03 | Lenity

God, that sounded so bitchy. You can't blame me though; if someone that was sick came to school and made no effort to keep their germs to themselves, you'd be a little pissed, to say the least.

On the bright side, being sick meant that my family had steered clear of me at home. Stefan avoided me like the plague, and mum and dad went out of their way to buy face masks. It's ridiculous; I have the Flu, not the damn Black Death!

I'm just glad that ever since I got sick, I didn't have to hear much of dad's preaching. Thank fuck for that.

You see, dad's the headmaster of this house. Whatever his opinions are, we're forced to follow them - it's how he managed to get all of us to believe in God and what not. I don't believe in God - I have nothing against Christian beliefs and I'm proud of who I am - but my brother, oh boy. He's like dad's prodigy. He's managed to make Stefan love God unconditionally, but he's also made him incredibly biased. He hates gays with a burning passion, just like my dad does. The worst part? He's openly hateful. They'll yell at any gay couple they see in public. They'll angrily rant about it to anyone that's willing to listen. They'll make sure everyone they talk to knows they dislike 'them fags.'

Don't I have the best family?

I switched the TV off and sluggishly chewed on a final chunk of the cocoa goodness before I got up and walked to the kitchen. I languidly swung the pantry door open, threw in my comfort food, and shut it.

That's when I felt a large, cold hand wrap itself over my stiff shoulder.

Instantly, my 'Fight or Flight' instincts kicked in; my brain decided to 'Flight' instead of 'Fight.' Because I was so drained and sick, I had little control over my arms and legs.

So, I ran into the pantry. Hard.

After I had recovered from the shock, I turned around to face my midnight assailant. Cautiously rubbing my probably-bruised skull, I squinted around in the darkness, groaning in pain.

Fucking hell, Taylor, you prick.

"Oh my God," Taylor said with the biggest grin on his face, "You should have seen your face! You ran straight into the pantry; I should have been filming that! Holy shit!"

Taylor was laughing his vocal chords off, clapping his hands like a drunken seal while squeezing his oceanic eyes so tightly they looked like they had just come into contact with a lemon. His laugh was like a siren; thank God nobody was home or he would have woken up the entire house.

I punched him in the arm and began to walk upstairs, back to my room.

"Well, it is fucking 12am, how do you think I'd react? I thought you were asleep! You could have called out my name instead of grabbing my shoulder! You could have been a robber or a rapist or God knows what else!"

Taylor ignored my comments and continued to snigger and laugh at me while I grumpily shuffled to my room. He followed en route behind me.

"Oh God, that's the greatest thing that's happened today!"

"Yeah, haha, so amusing, you asshole." I spat before shooting him a glare, to which he responded by laughing again. I rolled my eyes and climbed onto my bed.