Late Nite Dreaming

Late Nites and Sickness

Scarlett's POV

--two days later--

"I'm dying." I complaned to Clayton, who was bringing me soup. "No, you're not. You're just sick." I could tell he's getting annoyed with me. "No, no. I'm DYYIING!" I rolled off of my bed, pretending to die. "Then I'm turning your room into a walk in closet." He put the soup down on my night stand and walked out. "Rude!" 

Clayton and I have had a few arguements since I've been living here. But it's normal for siblings to fight, right? I wouldn't know. The only 'siblings' I've ever had were the girls at the orphanage.  I laid back in my bed, watching Peter Pan on Netflix, as all adults do when they're sick when I heard my phone go off. It was a text from Brady.

Bradypoo-- You know what I have that you don't?

Scar-- A dick?

Bradypoo--no

Scar--So.. you don't have a dick? I thought so..

Bradypoo--you ruin all the fun.

 Scar--I try.

Bradypoo-- Can I be excited now?

Scar--yeah yeah, go ahead.

Bradypoo-- WE GOT A BUNNY!

Scar--I need proof. 

Bradypoo-- Come over

Scar--Can't. I'm busy dying.

Bradypoo-- Care to explain?

Scar--I'm sick.

Bradypoo--Boo, you whore.

Scar--Love you too, sweetie.

With that, I threw my phone to the other side of my bed and had some of my soup. It was Chicken Ramen; my favorite. "Oh, fuck." I had forgotten I was watching my favorite movie, so I pulled it back up and sat back, eating my Ramen, watching my movie, and making Clayton my bitch.

It's the day before my birthday, so it kind of sucks that I'm sick, but nothing's better than having your brother be your servent for the day. I quickly finished my soup, calling for Clayton to take the bowl away, but he wasn't answering. "CLAYTON!" I called. Nothing. "CLAYBOO!" Nothing. "Claybear?!" Nothing. "Ugh. Fine. I'll do it myself." I sighed, bringing the bowl downstairs. "Fucktard." I mumbled as I passed his room. He wasn't in it. His parents weren't home either. For fucks sake, who leaves a sick girl home alone? I'm going to have to have words with these people.  I was about to go back to my room when I heard a knock at the door. "It's open!" I sighed as I went back to the kitchen. 

"Now, what if I was a murderer?" I heard Brady ask as he came into the house. "Well, I wouldn't have to worry, because you'd kill me, and after that, I wouldn't be capable of worrying, seeing as I would be dead." I smiled, getting myself a cup of milk and went back upstairs. "Clayton's not here." I mumbled as Brady followed me into my room. "Who says I'm here for Clayton?" He smiled at me, winking. "Ugh. Go away. I need warm blanket hugs." I went to lay down on my bed when he hugged me from behind. "What about warm Brady hugs? They're good too, right?" I sighed, shaking my head. "Brady, go home. I don't want to get you sick." I pulled away from him, laying down on my bed, pulling my blankets up. "Nah, you're watching Peter Pan, I can't leave without watching it."

"But I just started it. Go watch it at home." I groaned when he sat next to me on my bed. "I'm not going home." He got under the blanket, pulling up my laptop to watch the movie. "You suck, Szuhaj." I mumbled, resting my head on his shoulder. "Yeah, but you love it." He smirked at me. "Shut up." I sighed, watching the movie. Honestly, I'm happy he didn't go. It was nice having someone around that actually seemed to care about the dying girl in the house. Okay, so I wasn't actually dying. My stomach and head hurt a bit, and I didn't want to leave bed. I should be better by tomorrow, though. Happy birhtday to me.  

//AN//

Sorry I haven't updated. I know this chapter's short. I'm sorry. It's just a filler. I've been busy. I have finals, and I went to Hershey Park yesterday, and today I had to clean the house. It's a big house. And I had to fix my mom's closet. UGH. So yeah, I'll try to update more soon. Love you <3