The Baby Project

Day 8

Day 8 (Not Edited)

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Waking up early has never been my strong suit. That's why when Cyan came into my room, yelling at the top of his lungs, he almost lost an eye.

"What the hell?" He exclaims, "Was it necessary to kill me with your book?"

"Hphm," I grumble, trying to fall back asleep. Maybe he would go away.

"Oh, whoa. Death by a book! Now that's something I should write about and sell!"

Now, you're probably thinking: why would any moron want to write a book about something so-so stupid?

But you see, Cyan isn't just any moron; he's a big idiotic moron, who sadly happens to be related to me. My brother was an English major which meant that every time something happened, he would try to make some deluded story out of it.

Cat died? Story.

Got toe fungus? Story.

Peed and missed the toilet bowl? Story.

Yes, all three of these examples are true and my mom being the oh-so-supportive individual she is, makes the whole family read his writings. Let's just say, being mauled to death by a lion sounds more appealing than reading Cyan's stories.

"Go away!" I groan.

"No."

"GO AWAY."

"Ok," He says simply. The door shuts close.

Sighing, I snuggle closer into my warm bed. Ah, peace at last.

Not a second later, I hear a battle cry and stomping of feet. Before I have a chance to react, a heavy body launches itself on top of me. "OOF!" The body shakes with deep laughter, "I told you to get up Ror!"

"CYAN!" I should have known better to think he would leave so easily.

I try to push him off of me, "It's way to early for this!"

Scoffing, he (thankfully) removes himself from on top of me, "No it's not Sis. It's 7:30."

"So?" I question, not sure where he's getting at.

He rolls his eyes before sending me a glare, "School starts at 8 stupid!"

I stick my tongue out at him, "The nurse said if I wasn't feeling well, I don't have to go."

"You're fine! Plus, mom says you have to!"

"Cy, my head is killing me. I'm not going!" I whine.

His eyes soften, "Mom thinks you're going to get bad again."

I suddenly sit up, "That's ridiculous. I'm fine!"

He shakes his head, "Ror, you haven't had a panic attack in almost 6 months. We thought it was finally over but this- this may happen again."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I answer indignantly, "It won't."

He looks at me dubiously, "How can you be so sure?"

I huff, "I just can, okay? Can we stop talking about this? I want to stay home."

Cyan looks like he's about to say something, "Besides," I continue, "Walking is not going to get me there on time today."

"I can give you a ride." He suggests.

I moan. He just won't let me stay home will he?

"Cyannnnn!" I drag out.

"Don't Cyan me! You're going and that's final. Meet me down in 10 and if you're not ready, I'm dragging you out like that." He points to my hideous bright pink pajama pants and tank. "Yeah, I don't think you want to be seen in that." He states and turns to leave.