Paradise

Prologue

This story is inspired by the Walking Dead [game], and the Last of Us. Plot line however, is mine.

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A soft breeze blew by gently, causing my hair to become a mess as my eyes remained closed, enjoying the cool air.

I soon felt a hand weave into my hazel locks, and I opened my left eye, wincing at the light. The person chuckled, and I identified it as a male. But I don't panic, for when my vision cleared, I see my brother's face.

"Oh, ha ha." And with a slow grin, I reached my hands up and slapped his cheeks playfully.

"Ow- hey, you butt!" I stuck my tongue out, and shut my eyes again, willing for peace to come back. I felt my brother plop next to me, and we drifted into a peaceful silence.

"Dad's gonna be late again," George, my brother said.

I made some sort of displeased noise, my brother found it comical, even. He let out a snort. "Well that's attractive." I commented easily.

"Almost as attractive as yours," George replied in a teasing manner. I couldn't help but to laugh at that.

"So, what. You're going to spend the rest of the evening lazing around? In summer?" When I gave no reply, he snorted again, which I hope he would do it again when he talks to all attractive women. "You're such a pig, April."

Yes, that was me. April. It was such a strange name to have, especially when you were born in the month of May.

My parents always liked being ironic and funny. At least, I try to believe mom was.

They said that Mom left us when I was 4 and when George was 7. Dad told me that it wasn't her choice. But even now, her disappearance still causes confusion for me. George said he doesn't care, that whatever memories mom and he shared was good enough. But I know him, I know that he used to cry with dad in the dead of the night when we were young.

That was twelve years ago.

"Why's he late again?" I asked politely. If you count not making some strange noise polite, which I do.

"Oh you know, the usual. Paperwork or somewhere along the lines."

"Bummer, he was suppose to make dinner tonight too." I exhaled dramatically. "Guess it's leftovers... again."

"And it's tuna casserole." We both made gagging noises and began to laugh again. We didn't mind it, but if you ate it nearly every three days you might change your mind.

"Well! Sun's setting and somebody's gotta heat that up." Before anyone could say colour me pink, my brother was already on his feet, running back into the house. "And I'm gonna take a shower! See you later, litter sister!"

I spluttered, my limbs slower and clumsier than his quick ones since mine were stiff from goodness knows how long since I've laid down. "Hey! You cheater! Get back right now!"

But all that answers me is the wind, carrying his laughter.

I growled, mood slightly dampened. Now he is my brother, one I love very much （Well, most of the times）. But when it came to showers...

We were enemies.

"You better save some hot water for me!" I screeched, breathing hard. I was wasting my breathe, he always left me a few minutes worth of hot water, or sometimes none at all. I groaned, cursing myself for not foreseeing this.

Now that I know it would probably be an hour or so till we actually eat (We are a family of people who loved showers more than anything do not judge us.) I lazily made my way back to the house and propped myself out on the patio table. I laid my head in my arms, watching the sun set slowly.