Flood Watch: Thick and Thin

Prologue

“Malissa! Go to bed already!” I slapped my book to my face and groaned.

“Michael, please! Just five more minutes!” Michael was the oldest of the family, next to Tara, but she ran off years ago. Apparently we weren’t 'good enough' for her.

“You said the same thing ten minutes ago!”

 “Three minutes ago!”                                                     

“Malissa! Shut up! I’m trying to sleep!” my little sister shouted from underneath the covers beside me on the queen-sized bed.

“Malissa, go to bed!” my mom yelled from her room.

“Michael's yelling too! Scream at him!” I retorted.

“Go to bed!” he shouted and popped his head into my tiny room.

“But-“

Now,” he demanded.

“Fine,” I bookmarked my page and stuffed it under my pillow. Our tiny house is never quiet. Someone is either yelling, screaming, or blasting music, or ruff housing. Never a dull moment.

“Night,” I said to my little sister.

“Nighty, night, Malissa,” she whispered. I rolled over and faced her back as Michael turned all the lights out.

After a few minutes Galleec, my little sister, rolled over and faced me. I opened my eyes and saw her staring at me.

“Malissa, I need to pee,” I groaned and we both got out of bed. She quickly ran to me in the dark and grabbed my hand. Her body pressed up against my side and we both wandered out of the room. She didn’t like the dark, so she always woke me up when she needed to use the bathroom or wanted water. I would lead the way as she hid in my shirt, then I would turn the bathroom light on and search for ‘scary things’, as she calls them.

“There’s nothing in here, babe,” she looked up and then pushed me out. After she shut the door, I went over to our small window and looked out. We were supposed to have a heavy rain, but it wasn’t supposed to be more than a small down-poor. The dark clouds hung ominously over Miami. They looked like they were just hanging out, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“Malissa,” I heard a faint voice. I walked over to the bathroom and slowly opened the door. She stuck her little hand out and I held it tenderly with my right hand.

“Is it storming yet?” she whispered from my side.

“Not yet.”

“When it does, can you hold me?” she asked shyly.

“Sure, hun,” I smiled down at her and pushed back the open door to our room, then led her to my side where she crawled to hers.