The Untitled Piper Watson Project

An Introduction of Sorts

Piper's POV ~

        I'm not sure about a lot of things in this world, but the only thing I'm sure of now is that Twizzlers are the best brain food. I was munching on the red Twizzler and sipping my morning coffee wanting to rip my hair out. A year. Exactly a year. It's been exactly one year since I've written a book. My third was "the charm" I think. My first one was a sci-fi entitled Retaliation (hehe). My second one was a cheesy romantic cause I'm a sucker for that, and I called it Welcome to Moon Palace (Moon Palace is where the romance takes place) and the third was more actiony with spies and I called it Spy Games. That was the last I'd done. Sure, I'm still making bank but I won't be forever. I just have no inspiration anymore. The blog keeps me busy and it gets me noticed but soon I won't have a source of income. That's problematic. "Stop eating the Twizzlers, Pipes!" My sister Jen calls to me from the kitchen. She's sitting at the island on her laptop which is close to my work desk. "They help." I say before sipping my coffee. I hear her scoff. "Obviously they don't. Happy one year anniversary of having writer's block." "Fuck you." Jen gets up and stands behind my shoulder. "It's noon. Why don't you get out of your PJ's and I'll take you to lunch." I shake my head vigorously. "I can't. I have to do something today. I need to do this now." Jen pulls me out of my chair and drags me to the stairs to get ready. "No, I'm taking you to lunch." I sigh. Jen was always this persistent even when we were kids. "Fine. But it better be Grand Asia." 

***

        I look down at my food, still unsatisfied. "Have you went to see Sam in the hospital yet?" Jen asks, sipping her iced coffee with bubbles. "No." I say, avoiding her eyes as I grab my chopsticks. Even while I'm looking down and eating my Chinese food I can still feel her staring at me, her eyes burning into my soul. "Why not?" is all she asks. I shrugged. "I don't know. Every other time I have he just tells me how disappointed in me he is." Sam used to be successful. Well, that is before his cancer came back. Long story short: he was doing absolutely nothing with his life and then he got cancer. Then he beat it and built his life up to what it was before his cancer came back. He's not beating it this time. "You know that's not true." Jen says gently. We sit awkwardly in silence before Jen speaks again. "He's been asking for you, Piper. You know he's dying...just please go see him." I look at the pleading in her eyes and I feel like such a bad person for neglecting my dying relative. "I have to think about it." I mumble. She nods in understanding and we continue to eat in silence. "Do you work today?" I ask. "Yeah." Jen says. "Are you gonna go back home?" I bite my lip. "No I think I'm gonna go to Barnes & Noble. To see if my books have been restocked and all." I should've been home that day, trying to write. But if I wasn't, I would've missed the best thing that's ever happened to me. 

Mack's POV ~

        I start to stir from my sleep when I hear my parents arguing. Well, my mom yelling at my dad. I close my eyes again trying to tune them out. "I have to go to work, Vince." Mom hisses. "It's almost 1 in the afternoon and he still isn't up. You know I barely slept last night." Dad tries to calm her down so she doesn't wake me up. "Daphne, please." he says. "He had a rough night last night and he deserves a break because of everything he's been through for the past few months." My mom doesn't raise her voice when she gets angry. Instead, she lowers it. "He spent six months in that goddamn place." she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought when he got back he was going to get better and get a job and his own apartment. But he moved back in with us and now three months later, he's still sleeping through the afternoon and hasn't gotten any better. I need to go to work and if he doesn't go out today and try to be productive I'll send him right back to Boston." Mom doesn't wait for a reply and stalks out of the house, her heels clicking as she goes. I hear it suddenly stop as she walks back in and adds: "and make sure he takes his medication." And then she's gone. A few moments later Dad comes in and softly shakes me awake. "Mack, get up, son." I groan, pulling the covers over my head. "I know it's the afternoon," he says, "but get up and get ready and I"ll make you breakfast." I pull the covers down and stare at him before saying: "Fine but it better be pancakes." 

***

I exit my bedroom with my hair damp, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Dad already has a place for me at the kitchen table with a plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon, a cup of coffee, and a small pile of pills on a napkin. I sigh. Dad usually doesn't make me take them when Mom isn't around but since she reminded him to give them to me then he listened. He came back downstairs shortly, wearing his coach's uniform for the football team at the college downtown. My room was on the first floor for easy access (just in case). He sits down next to me and the only sound is my chewing and sipping. Dad clears his throat. "I think you should go out today." he says. I stare at him. "I know the past few months---" "Years." "----I know the past few years have been hard for you, but I think it's time for you to get your life in order." I want to be mad at him for saying that, but deep down I know he's right. I've tried being a kid for as long as possible and now it's time to grow up. I nod. "Okay. I'll go out and do something useful just like everyone wants me to." "You don't have to get a job and move out right away." Dad assures me. "I just think it would be good for you to get out of the house for a little while. You haven't left the house since you came back from Boston Psychiatric." I finish eating and stand. "I'm gonna go to Barnes & Noble. I want books to read, it's boring here." Dad stands as well, and takes a few seconds before pulling out his wallet and car keys. He counts a few bills and hands me the money and keys. "Thanks, Dad. But how will you get to work?" he shrugs. "I'll figure it out." I'm about to leave when my dad says "Mack." I turn around. He points to the pills still on the table. I look back at him desperately, begging him in my mind to just throw them away like he always does. Eventually I win the staring contest and my dad sighs and wraps the pills in the napkin before throwing them in the trash. He mutters "Your mother's gonna kill me for this."