Between YOU and I

The house of Dire

Like a reserved child I leaned against the gate surrounding the dire house in a fixated gaze that centered my focus. The house was olive white, intimidatingly tall, and seemed to flow with an attractive presence. In my mind, I can't quite cultivate any terrifying thought in relation to this poor ramshackle home. Nothing about it's docile demeanor struck even a minor arrival of fear into my heart. It was almost as complacently silent as the autumnal atmosphere surrounding it. Everything about it intrigued my wakeful mind and a raring sense of impatience sparked through my nerves and inflamed a thrill so intense, It was difficult to keep still.

The fervency that exhilarated my adrenaline was unanticipatedly great, that I yawned the thick antique gate just a little before Ronald called over to me.

"Hey Porter, didn't Michelle tell your pansy ass to wait for us." I sigh in annoyance to hear his condescending voice split through the perfect void of stillness, like the grating sound of metal scraping over a concrete sidewalk. My eyes rolled in his direction, when the advent of the others in our group stride over. Tyler, Mathew, Ellany, Trisha, Aaron, Marchus, and Neil join us.  I cannot for the life of me understand why my sister Michelle invites this douche every time we do anything fun. He clearly entices nothing but aggravation; at least to me.

"First off "us" does not automatically incorporate you, and secondly, why are you even here?"

My eyes spitefully flicker over to Michelle, and a callous look of censure accompanied my expression. Almost like clockwork, I waited for the obvious repartee to come gliding from his fuck-boy mouth."Your sister of course," he states as his arm frames the back of Michelles nape. And as if right on cue, my sister  plays into his idiotic blathering by countering his advancements with a childish smile. I grit my teeth in disgust and try to retard the vomit rising in my throat. What does Michelle see in this looser? He clearly has nothing advantageous going for him. She supports an adult boy with less than common intelligence and a libido so high even the thought of him sexually arousing any poor girl, let alone my sister was disturbing. A rapist is the perfect template to describe this lustful asshole, and my sister eats it up. I hate to belittle her intelligence, but she clearly had the looks to dominate the world and she wastes her time on someone so significantly uneventful it was frustrating.

He was 6'3, pale, platinum blond with the appearance of a scene-boy and a loner combined. He wore mostly all black, except for the occasional band t-shirt. His jeans were tighter than a virgins box and he had tattoos on the majority of toned and exposed skin. The only unique aspect about him, was his more than average package size. His cock is so massive it literally looks as if the seams of his jeans would give-way to his manhood with one thrust of his pelvis. I don't have to analyze the reason anymore, his baby arm is clearly the source of her gravitation to him.

"Leave him alone Porter, you know he's too much fun to not have him around." She emphasizes the word fun as her right hand clutches the more massive region of his body. He lets out a grunt of pleasure which only ignites the disdain in my stomach. I turn my attention immediately when he leans in to her ear, and rebuke all the vile torture that transpires before me. Just as my mind wanders hurriedly from the atrocity of their relationship, my eyes catch sight of a form moving past the upstairs window.

"I though nobody lived in this house." I taper my eye-lids to help facilitate my vision, but it was getting darker and a lot harder for me to completely analyze what I saw.

"The house is vacant, so i'm guessing that means empty don't you think Porter?" Marchus mutters sarcastically as he ambles to my left side. His hands slide up and down the bars of the gate as he tosses me a glare.

"Oh ha ha ha Marchus, I literally bow to your superior intellect." An inflation of bitter annoyance began to provoke the tightening of my jaw and the hardening of my fist.  I already predetermined my distaste for Marchus' a long time ago, given the addition that he was childhood friends with Ronald. So I try my best not to concede to my irritability when around them both.