I'm Not Listening.

1

"What is wrong with you??"

"I'm just showing everyone the truth that should be seen!!!"

"There's.. there's no one here..."

---

The shine that erupted from my open curtains caused me to fall out of my bed with a thump. Oh great, clearly another wonderful day awaits.
"Why are my curtains open?!" I groaned, reaching for my phone to check the time. A reply came out of nowhere.
"You were dumb enough to leave them open last night, you sleep deprived fucker." It seethed, it's words poison in pure form.

I decided to ignore it for now. 19 years of this shit, you want a break after a while. After seeing the time was close to six am, I almost smacked my head on my bed post to knock myself out, wishing for sleep to take over again. But, my door burst open with a crash, causing me to collide with my drawers in fear.

"ASHHHHEEEEYYYYYY!!!!! I WANT WAFFLEESSSSSS!!" My little sister screamed with great passion. I sighed and slowly got up, just noticing her come bounding over and attack my legs in a hug.
"Waffles." She clearly stated, her words muffled against my stomach. I chuckled and picked her up.
"Hey Amy, if you go get ready and get the ingredients, I may make you waffles." I smiled.

Her eyes immediately lit up and she wriggled with excitement, her six year old energy more prominent every day. "Put me down then!!" I did as she asked, and she ran off to her room, bubbly and free of worries.

I collapsed on my covers, sighing in deafeat. I stared up at my blue ceiling, which still had glowing stars on it from when I was young. "I guess I should get ready too." I said to no one in particular. Of course, it replied anyway.
"If you want, but you're gonna look like a slob no matter what you put on."
I nodded and got a green shirt with black jeans, yawning as I sloppily put them on.

I heaved myself down the corridor to the kitchen, where Amy was already waiting at the table with all the ingredients for waffles. I giggled at her little face, waiting with eager excitement.
"Asher!!! I got the ingredients like you asked! Can I have waffles now?" She shouted obnoxiously.
"Well, what's the magic word?" I pushed for her manners.
"Please?" She gave me pleading eyes. I have never seen anyone be so excited for sweet, simple, breakfast carbohydrates.

"How pathetic." It observed. I tried to push it back.

"Alright then." I shrugged. Amy jumped up from the cushioned seat and smiled with great glee.
"YAY! BREAKFAST WAFFLES WITH MY BIG BRO, ITS GONNA BE SO TASTYYY!" She sing songed, skipping over to me, taking my hand, and pulling me over to the set out ingredients. I laughed as I watched her little dance.
"Alright, but we still need a bowl. Can you go get one?" I smiled. Amy nodded and bounced over to the cupboard. I followed her but reached up where she couldn't to get the cast iron waffle pan. It was worn from the many waffles we had, but it symbolised good memories, better times.

Amy poked my stomach, "Ashey, stop remin- remics- stop remsci-"
"Reminiscing?" I chuckled at her struggle.
"Yeah!"
"That's a grown up word. Where'd you hear it?" I asked, truly curious.
"Ms. Sandy uses it when we're day dreaming during maths n stuff, cause maths is boring."
"That's true. Wait till you get to my stage of maths though." I sighed, remembering the torture of past maths classes.
"No, I don't want to. I want waffles." She shoved the bowl in my hand. I nodded and went over to the hob, placed the pan down, and asked Amy to pass me various ingredients as the pan heated up.

Soon, the sizzle of batter and the smell of sugar filled the kitchen. Amy peered over my arm and hummed the tune of a familiar Disney song. I hummed along with her, flipping the pan.
"Hey, can you get a plate for yourself?" I asked, breaking the song. She nodded and went to the sink, getting her favourite plastic plate, holding it up to me. I lifted open the pan, a perfect waffle sitting before us. Amy ooohed and jumped up and down. I slipped the crispy goodness onto a spatula, then passed it to the hungry child, carefully as to not burn her.

She hopped like a bunny to the table and sat, grabbing the syrup and drizzling it on. I taught her not to use too much, as to not destroy her teeth. She whined when I first told her this, but now she is okay. I made a waffle for myself, and sat opposite my sister, who was monching down on her favourite food.
"Good?" I asked.
"Definitely!!" She exclaimed with a full mouth. I loved to see her happy. Maybe I treat her too much, but we only have waffles on occasion. Once a week. Sometimes twice.

"You're a push over." It whispered. "She'll die anyway, she'll abandon you, like they did."
I shook my head. I just wish it would let me be happy.