The Bad Boys Laugh

Chapter Six

Aris Williams

"What do you mean you're going to pull the plug!" I yelled, jumping off the couch, my brother Samuel getting up after me, obviously fearing me freaking out.

I shoved the arm he tried to put across me to comfort me, completely pissed off.

Pointing to Lovely, I accused her, "She's your sister too! How could you agree to this! I understand how you three wouldn't understand because you were basically full grown and moved out whenever she was born and growing up," I pointed to my three much older brothers and continued. "Lovely, you saw her grow up, how strong she was- is! She can get through this! Sh-"

And that's when I lost it.

Tears streaming down my face, and Erik trying to console me, I pushed him hard enough to almost make him fall onto the couch, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" I ran up the stairs to my room, slammed the door shut, and started the scream.

Throwing my lamp that was on the little shelf beside my door, I watched as it smashed into a hundred different pieces on the floor, it honestly making me feel like a human being again. The lamp shattering basically showing how my own heart was feeling at this point and time.

They were going to kill my sister. My baby sister, the one I have seen grow in my own mothers stomach, heard scream for hours on end and threaten to shove a sock in her mouth, the one who would hug me when I would cry, the one who I would get into screaming battles with, watch movies with, play with, get serious with. Why would Lovely say it was alright? Why would she consent to this? She has been through the life of Lauren Anne Williams just as long as myself. And she probably remembered more of her than I did myself.

'Knock'

"Fuck off. I don't care who it is. Just. Fuck. Off. Okay?"

There was a silence for a while before there was another quiet knock. "Little sister. Unlock your door."

I covered my mouth, because if not, a gasp of surprise probably would have exclaimed from my lips.

"Ander?"

He didn't answer, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to pursue him.

Ander hardly spoke a word after he came back from Iraq. He went through some crazy shit over there, and everybody thought that actually letting words fall out of his mouth would let some of information out.

Before he left though, I hadnt really known him of course because I was too young to remember anything, but I heard that he was a chatterbox. Somebody who had a reason to be the center of attention because of him being a gossip whore, and attractive enough to get away with it.

"Ander."

I was widely known for people answering me, for I was kind of demanding. Psht. I don't know what they mean.

Pulling my door open, my oldest brother was on the other side looking at me curiously. His red hair that was the same color as mine all over his face , kind of like he got up on the wrong side of the bed today, and didn't give a crap about fixing it. His blue gray eyes that all of my dads children had somehow gotten lit up like a fire.

I was told that we were similar in more ways than we could possibly understand. More even so than the obvious hair color and similar facial features that made us look like our dad. Me looking better of course though.

We were told we were alike because we somehow understood people, that we could see past the shields that they throw up. That we pushed those away and make people see us as equals. It was a very in depth conversation between my aunt and I.