Strings Attached

~Chapter 14~

Assalamu 'alaikum/Hello peeps! Have nothing to say except that I was struck with writer's block and procrastination, he...he. Hence, the late update. 

E.N.J.O.Y!

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Manchester, England.

(Daniyal Hasan)

I wake up to the pounding of a door that splits my head into a thousand pieces which wail like sirens inside my head even after it has stopped. And my head threatens to burst open. It feels as if the pounding isn't happening on the door, rather my head is receiving it directly.

Mere opening of my eyes is such a da*ned task that I'm on the verge of giving up. But, right when my grogginess starts getting to me, the pounding begins all over again.

F*** you, Molly! Your sole aim is to make my life hell, it seems. The irony of the statement isn't lost upon me, even in my heavily disoriented state. But it pays to get it out on somebody who sacrifices herself to my verbal abuse each hangover morning.

"Seth, Dan! I swear if you don't open the door right now, I'll break it and drag you both down by your ears," a woman suddenly shrieks from outside and I realise, with some alarm, that I'm not at home. Or purgatory. Both are synonymous in my case.

I'm at Seth's place, and I've no idea how I came to be here. To confirm my thoughts, I finally crack open my eyes, only to see the devil lying flat on his stomach on the other side of the bed, still lost to the world. His sleeping through the pounding irks me. And I give him a kick that sends him flying to the floor.

He gets up quickly enough, rubbing his eyes furiously to clear his vision. "That's a nice thank you I get after saving your sorry a** last night!" he complains crossly, and I realise I got into another fight last night. Da*n it! Just when I'm trying to pick myself up.

I don't feel any pain in my body from any bruises though, aside from the splitting headache, courtesy of the booze. And that's a little fishy for my liking. Did I manage to kick that fu**er's a**? Or, was the idiot talking about a different kind of mess? The non-violent one?

But before I can ask him to clarify, yet another round of pounding begins, and my poor victim of a head is shattered a bit more, each part aching with a ferocity of its own. "Da*n it, woman! Can't you stop for a sec?!" Seth finally barks, his patience now at an end, as he makes his way towards the door.

"Do you see what time it is right now?!" Aunt Rosa shrieks once again, the moment she's admitted herself in. I quickly check my phone, only to see that it's dead. Great. "Yeah, it's 3. So what?" Seth challenges his mother, and I mentally face palm myself. Wrong move, bro.

"In the afternoon," Aunt Rosa grinds her teeth menacingly. "You better not give me that tone, boy, or I'll see that you don't get out of the house for the next two weeks. You too, Dan." And there it is, my cue to switch on my charm.

But the next sentence out of her mouth is the hangman's noose around our necks. One wrong move and it shall be tightened instantly. Her eyes have shrunk to slits in suspicion. "And why do you two look like you'd drunk yourself insane last night? On school night, too, no less?"