Unexpectedly

Prologue- Keep Dreaming

Prologue

                The summation of all the forces acting on one—

                CRASH!

                I winced. There goes the second antique vase, probably broken in pieces downstairs. Mom would kill Jake once she gets home. Jake will definitely be in a whole lot of trouble because of this stupid party downstairs. Music blared loudly downstairs, making it impossible to study for my Physics exam tomorrow.

If I fail that exam, Jake will die by my own hands, I mean, why wasn’t I blessed with a brother who didn’t throw parties twice a week? On school days? Life is so unfair. He’s younger than me, but he never listens, so what was the point of being someone who could boss him around?

                With my brother acting childishly downstairs, I had to at least be mature enough. One of us being the  child is enough trouble as it is. I looked at my Physics book again.

                The summation of all the forces—

                The door banged open. I bolted upright, eyes wide. On the doorway, a couple was making out. Like, really making out. With actual tongue interaction. “What the hell?” I asked.

                They broke apart. Both of them looked really, really wasted. And they were a mess. With smudges of daredevil red lipstick all over their faces (even the guy). Eww. They must have been making out right in front of my room since the break of dawn.

                Disgusting.

                “Get. Out.”

                They froze. And laughed. The girl (who looked everything like a prostitute, only younger) laughed at me. “Looks like somebody needs a good time.”

                I stood up. I must have looked intimidating (even in my favorite bunny bedroom slippers and blue, PJ’s with cute yellow ducks), because they actually cowered a little.

                “I said”—I shot both of them my best glare—“Get out. Now.”

                They froze, left, and muttered under their breaths about me being a killjoy.

                I sighed in grief. My brother throwing a party at a school day? That, I could handle. People making out and attempting to do who-knows-what in my room? That, unfortunately to my brother, is a direct death sentence from me.

                Still in my PJ’s, I closed my room and stomped down the stairs. With every step, the music got louder.

                Chaos. That’s the only word that could describe what happened to our house. It smelled disgustingly like beer and sweat. It was so hot and sticky and yucky. And then the noise—that was worse. People chatting, people shouting, people shouting as they were chatting, the metal music my brother was addicted to. It was head-pounding.

                I scanned the chaotic scene around me (no thanks to my brother). Sure enough, my mother’s antique ceramic vases were in pieces in my father’s favorite vintage carpet. I turned away and looked for my brother.

                I found him. In the kitchen, surrounded by a crowd. They’re obviously emptying the snack box. Or the refrigerator. They were laughing loudly.