I can write a story, not a title

Chapter 4 Part 1

I am later found laying in my bed, staring at the ceiling, before promptly being smacked in the face by my rubber hand.

Stupid Ethan, stupid Mom, dad's fine I guess. But seriously, if someone saw a canned soup hating goth get slingshotted through the air, into the distance, why wouldn't they tell?!

And why did Mom accuse me of being irresponsible? How was this my fault? I was the one that hit him in the face! And she knew that, Ethan said it! Well, technically he said we attacked him, but knowing us for our entire life would surely make her knowledgeable enough to realize that I threw the compass, Ethan hid behind me.

She had it out for me, that's my opinion. Ever since I accidentally deleted a chapter out of the book she was writing. I accidentally closed her tab without saving. like I said, accident. Though now that I think about it, I suppose deleting an entire unsaved chapter that took forever to right due to artists block would be grounds to be angry.

"Hey kiddos! Come here! I've got something to show you guys!" I hear our father summoning us from the dining room, which should honestly be called the workroom by now.

I stopped rubbing Ellis's head. Originally, she was named Tasty, Tasty the cat. The slightly delicious looking cat. I was going to get naming rights, but no one else wanted to call her Tasty, she just ended up getting called Ellis. And to top it all off, I'll probably never get naming right again. I don't know why though, I'm great at naming, and no one can convince me otherwise.

The name is justifiable, see, when she curls up, she looks like a cooked cinnamon role. At one point, she was pissing me off, so I managed to slide her sleeping body onto a counter, and I poured some milk on her.

She looked tasty. Then she looked murdery. Then she didn't look like anything since I closed my eyes and covered my face from the onslaught of sharp little claws. It sounds mean, I know, (PETA, go away!) but she often makes my hair into a nest.

I got up, throwing Ellis off my stomach, and padding over to the dining room with Ethan, Ellis on my tail. Kind of ironic, I know.

"Look, look what I found!" Our dad grinned, showing us his phone. It was  a 1 second long video from inside of a bus.

It was one second of something black shooting past the outside of the bus.

"Huh" Ethan leaned in, squinting at the screen. "Weird, but why did you want to show us this?"

I feel like I could make out a really angry face, with terrible makeup on it. Just a feeling though, just a feeling.

"BeCaUsE," Our dad replayed the video at 25% the original speed, "look closely"

We both leaned in, focusing on the video. Oh, lookie there, what a coincidence. A really angry face with terrible makeup on it!

"Mmph!" I squealed excitedly, as Ellis hopped up on the table, flicking her ears, "that's him!"

"Oh my gosh, it is!" Ethan watched emo boi fly by the screen again and again. It was very entertaining.

"Hm?" We both looked back at our dad, who seemed somewhat confused, "That's who?"

"The canned soup critic! Emo boi! Compass face! Hepatitis enthusiast!" I quickly listed off all his nicknames, fast as I could.

"They guy who attacked us! Well, tried anyways." Ethan started rubbing Ellis's head, "He was probably worse at fighting then me."

"...What was that?" Dad turned his phone off, and glared at us.

"Well... we may have told a little white lie about what happened at the dump.~"

"I think the only true thing we said was about the soup, and him chasing us" Ethan added.

Dad just kept glaring at us.

"What? You wanna hear what happened? We specifically decided not to tell you guys since we knew you wouldn't believe us." The last part was muttered, because now that I've stopped running around, I realize that dad might have believed us, or at least would be interested.

Ethan and I told him the short story of our fabulous and heroic victory, and made sure to detail many times over how terrible his eyeliner was. Oh, and the part were he slingshots away in the end. That was kind of important too.

Then we brought up the compasses, and I jumped up to grab them from my room. Tasty looked very upset that I stopped petting her.

"Uh... huh." He had a low key staring contest with the compasses, turning them side to side. "Well, I see why you didn't tell me, it does sound kind of like unreliable testimony."