Fifty

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"You cannot be serious!", Brianna began, then followed Austin, "Not a chance in Hell!", then Timothy, who remained silent as an angel.

"We've talked about this. Y'all know that about now, don't you?", Mrs. Summers reminded in a half-calm, half-menacing tone, "There's too much going on in this city. Kids getting poisoned at a birthday party, explosions, rabies, a serial killer let loose.... That is not how we're going to spend our summer vacation, thank you very much."

"Yeah, but I mean where the hell are we going anyway?", Austin pressed on, but later apologized for the tone.

Mrs. Summers looked toward her husband to confirm if she could carry on or let him set the ball rolling. He shrugged, so she went on.

"There's this perfect cabin your father and Uncle Sam rented six weeks ago. Trust me, it's not like any other cabin-in-the-woods. It has five bedrooms and.......basically, just five bedrooms. But it is awesome. It's gonna be fun. You guys will love it there. It's quiet. It's peaceful."

"For how long?", Austin whimpered.

"What?", Mrs. Summers shrugged.

"How long are we staying in that awful nightmare? I think that's what he's trying to say," Brianna translated for her brother, already aware of what was coming next.

"Probably when everything's settled down," Mr. Summers finally backed his wife up, straightening his glasses back in position when they fell slightly. Timothy observed the face of his father, and judging from the dull look, he knew one thing for sure. He didn't mean a word of what he just said to Brianna. The kid started to wonder how long both mother and father were planning on keeping them away from the city.

He had that funny, tingling sensation deep in his gut that the man with two eyes seated in front of him was hiding something with his Jane Doe, African-American wife beside him. Or better yet, the two oddballs were hiding from something and precisely, it wasn't meant for his young mind to grasp and understand. Ignoring them like always, he munched on his Chinese and gazed at the light in the ceiling to remind himself that his classmates were dead and gone.

When he bought his ears back to reality, they heard loud, audible words;

"Anywhere peaceful is better than this shithole we live in," Brianna clarified.

"I said mind your language when we're at the table, little girl", Mrs. Summers alerted her.

Austin decided to change the mood of the area in a slight matter of seconds and he did it in style.

"When you say Shithole, what exactly are you trying to say, Brie?", Mr. Summers interrogated in the Mr. Summers way. Austin and Timothy watched in fascination.

"The fact that nothing. Surprising... ever happens in this neighborhood", Brianna finalized, "Can't you all see the loop we're all stuck in? We live the same day like it's an ordinary day. Over and over again. Same faces. Same situation. Same arguments. Nothing new. And I think moving the hell outta here is gonna be a blast."

"Cause it's all about you, isn't it, Brie?", Austin stubbornly mocked at his sister and did it in style. Now Timothy was finding this fascinating, "Why do you love complaining so much? It's making all of us sick to our stomach."

"Just so we're clear," Brianna calmly shot back in her stable tone, "You don't always have to antagonize me anytime we're at the dinner table."

At once, Mrs. Summers intervened, "We're not having this conversation anymore. No more talking. Eat your damn food." But still....

"You are the one who is always complaining and being a bitch. Not me," Austin teased with a smirk. Mr. Summers gave out another sigh of exasperation.

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