The Siren's Song

Chapter Four-Poker Chips And Kansas

I wake up to the sound of knocking on my door.

"Cory?" The muffled voice of my dad sounds from the other side of the wood.

"The hell do you want?" I grumble, still half asleep. I'm not usually this rude, especially to my dad, but this isn't exactly my morning. My head is pounding and I'm still not ready to wake up. But then again, when am I?

"Relax, Cory," he says, "I just wanted to know if you can take care of the twins while I go to town and get some groceries."

Even though he can't see me, I glare.

"I was relaxing, but then you woke me up!"

"Coralie," dad says in a scolding voice.

"Fine, I'll babysit the twins," I growl.

"Thanks, Cor. I'll be back at around five?"

"Jeez, how long do you plan to shop for?"

"Jeez, how long do you plan to sleep for?" Dad retorts jokingly. I look at the clock. It's 11:05.

"Ha ha, very funny."

"See you, Cory."

Bye, dad."

I don't know when I drifted off again, but I do know that I had left the twins unattended for half an hour. If they're anything like me, half an hour is just enough to set something on fire.

Thankfully, when I open my door, there's no scent of smoke in the air. I stagger into the living room like I'm back from the dead in my plaid pyjama shorts and my grey t-shirt that's two sizes too big with the words me, myself and I screen-printed across the front. Well, at least I'm a stylish zombie. Take note of my sarcasm.

Johnny and Bri are sitting on the floor, playing a card game. Bri is drinking a smoothie while Johnny is gnawing on a huge slice of pizza from last night's dinner. Their heads turn as I stomp into the room, and they both stand up.

"Hey dudelets," I say, trying to unwrap a few locks of hair from around my arms, "you haven't burned the house down?"

"You were supposed to come out of your room half an hour ago," Johnny says in his tattle-tale voice.

I shrug his remark off.

"Don't worry, I would've woken up if anything happened. Plus, I have 9-1-1 on speed dial."

Johnny rolls his eyes at that.

Jonathan and Brietta are twins. They both have straight ginger hair, but Johnny's is just past his ears and Bri's is down to her shoulders. They have dark green eyes, and they're both very short. Eva looks just like them, but she's older, with darker ginger hair that's in a pixie cut and a permanent sour expression. And then there's me, with the curly, untamed blonde hair and the eyes that never stay one colour. I've always been jealous of my siblings— even though they're soulless, their hair is great.

I march into the kitchen, looking around in the cupboards to find something I can eat for breakfast. Cereal? No. Toast? No. I growl in frustration. We have no food. Well, maybe it's a good thing that dad is going shopping for a million years.

I shrug, grab some ice cream out of the freezer, and put the tub on the counter. Then, grabbing a spoon out of one of the boxes we have yet to unpack, I take the tub and seat myself on the couch, popping the lid off.

"Really? Ice cream for breakfast?" Bri says, looking at the tub disapprovingly. Normally mild-tempered Bri is quite passionate when it comes to eating healthily. In fact, all of my family members are very mild-tempered. The irony here is that I'm the only blonde in the family, and I have the biggest temper out of anyone.