"I'm hungry." A soft voice rouses you from your sleep; you let out a soft 'hn' and roll over: you believe your still dreaming. "I said 'I'm hungry.' Now get me some of those cookies, Peanut!"
You're up in an instant, looking around, frantic to locate the voice demanding cookies. Not seeing anything you deem the voice to be your own imagination. Laying back down you mutter to yourself "Great, now I'm hearing cookie deprived ghosts."
"Do I look like a ghost to you, Peanut?" the voice seeks you out once more and you freeze: that was not your imagination.
"How can you see a ghost? They're transparent." The snappy comeback escapes your mouth before you can stop it. 'Great,' you think to yourself ruefully 'Now I'm going to be slaughtered in my sleep by a cookie-hungry murderer.'
"I'm not a ghost- I'm a hungry unicorn!" at this point you're out of your bed in a flash, searching the room for the source- but all you find is your innocent-looking snowy cat: Destroyer.
"That's it: I'm insane." you mutter silently before heaving a great sigh "Cookie-hungry unicorn-ghost: come at me bro!" you challenge for every man, woman and, uh, cookie-eating unicorn-ghost within hearing-range to hear.
A loud banging on the wall of your shabby bedroom and a muffled "Shut the hell up, Peanut: its 3a.m.!" from your older brother reminds you to stop doing the Superman-pose and go back to sleep- your temporary lapse in sanity is currently forgotten.
Maybe it was something in those cookies you ate.
Sitting back down on your comfy twin bed your attention is diverted to Destroyer- who is currently staring at you, his smooth tail twitching from side to side like some possessed metronome. You cock your head to the side, your short blond pixie-cut brushing your slim shoulders; you blink your large, cerulean eyes at the slim feline. Destroyer copies you almost instantly: you play this game all the time.
As your sapphire eyes meet his emerald ones something finally clicks in the back of your mind.
You ponder this epiphany for a moment before slipping out of bed once more and sneaking over to the door as silently as you can; all the while humming the Mission Impossible theme song.
Once in the hall you reach the open threshold of your brother's room, taking a peek inside you see a deeply-breathing lump on his bed, dribbling slightly. Quickly you dive forward and ninja-roll past his room.
You then continue into the kitchen, close to what you need to confirm your suspicion. Crawling army-style to the sweets cupboard you open it silently and take out the crinkled paper bag that held a delicious treat.
You retrace your steps and make it back to your room un-noticed by you now-snoring brother. You place yourself carefully in front of your pet and hesitantly hold out the bag to him. He sniffs the bag suspiciously before proving your hunch "Thanks." he mumbles silently before digging in.
YOU ARE READING
Random Pieces Of Writing That Pop Out Of Nowhere
Historia CortaA collection of written pieces that range from assignments, style practice, and in-the-moment inspiration. It's a way to measure my development as a writer and gain some feedback. It's ranged over a good few years, so please notice the time stamp.
