My Boy Fills Coffins

Chapter Three - I Might Be Death, But I Still Have Insecurities!

Chapter Three – I Might Be Death, But I Still Have Insecurities!

When someone says they’ll be at your house at a certain time, you would imagine you would be ready at that time and that they would politely come to your door and knock and wait for you to exit the building.

At six twenty-nine, I had my duvet thrown off me by a strange man who still hadn’t returned my ramekin and was currently telling me to get my ‘fat ass out of bed’, and that ‘stupid bloody women are never on time’, and that ‘napping is for babies and that ‘seventeen year old girls aren’t babies’.

It was now six thirty-one, and an impatient Noah stood at the foot of my bed glaring at me, “Fucks sake! Its six thirty-one, and you’re in bed, in your under garments, looking at me like I’m a child molester! I thought women were always on time!” I glanced up at him, dazed. I was still in dream land, where I was skipping down a lane with an oversized rabbit.

I blinked, before yawning loudly as Noah shot me an incredulous look. “Keep your scythe down, geez. Just let me find my pants.” I mumbled, struggling to get one leg into some skinny jeans. And then the realization that I was in my underwear finally hit me, and I shoved my pants on at a speed that would have impressed anyone.

“You really shouldn’t sleep without any pants on, I mean, I’m not complaining, but it’s just inviting people to perv on you.” Noah tutted, falling backwards and sprawling out on my bed with a small whoop of childish enjoyment.

I gave him a look before picking up a shirt and shoving it over my head, “Well I normally don’t have teenage boys turn up in my bedroom. How did you get past my mother, may I ask?” I called out to Noah as I tried to get my head through an arm hole. I grunted, frustrated, and after another few moments of wresting with the shirt I popped my head through the right hole.

“You are quite amusing to watch get dressed. I must make a habit of this. Also, I am not a teenage boy; do not associate me with those twits, please. I didn’t get past your mother. I used my ninja skills to sneak past her. As Death, I was granted ninja skills which you don’t have. Now, let’s go, Robin! You shall address me as Batman this evening. I’m feeling particularly immature today.” Noah told me as I tied my shoes. When he called me Robin, I raised an eyebrow.

Noah flipped my window open with his thumbs, and hopped out without a second glance at me. Fuck no. I am not Robin; I do not jump from windows. So, like the civilized person I am, I walked downstairs and past my mother who was talking to her stuffed dog, and out the front door.

Noah’s shite car had been left running outside my house, and he was sitting on top of it, eyes closed and cross legged. I wasn’t even going to question why he was on top of his car, never mind how he got up there. I was so uncoordinated I could barely walk without nearly killing myself or something. Asking me to get up on an object over a foot off the ground with the ability to move was just begging for trouble.

So I stood on the curb beside his car with my hands on my hips, “Are you getting down off there, Noah?” I asked tautly, and he cocked an eye open to glance at me before snapping it shut again and not moving.

“Woah, someone had their bitchflakes. You should try to be more like your mother, more laidback and stuff. It’ll make you live longer, I’d know.” Noah spoke serenely, trying and failing to hide the laughter in his tone. I rolled my eyes at his antics, and he fluidly stood up on top of his car. Noah smiled down at me widely before just jumping off and landing beside me on his feet with a dull thud. “Before you get all comfy in my car, I would like to remind you that Mr Wriggles is in the vehicle, and he doesn’t like whingey teen girls. So leave your cranky thong here.”