Coma (Slowly Editing)

Day 0

 Halloween weekend started off unremarkably enough. Sophie, Tara, and I had this tradition of doing movie marathons during the weekends, so on Friday night, the two of them came over to my house. John was off ‘being a college student’, which basically translate to ‘I’m smoking pot in my Lit major girlfriend’s dorm, don’t call me unless you want to die’, and my dad was getting ready for his office party. This year, he decided to be Mario, complete with the rapey-looking moustache. I’ve told him multiple times that I hated that moustache, but he never cared. However, he did seem rather taken aback us as we filed into the living room, bags of junk food in hand.  

“Tara…your shirt…”

Tara looked down at her shirt innocently, and I sniggered. I couldn’t help it. It had a photo of Neville Longbottom with a caption that said ‘My Bottom is NOT the Only Thing That's Long’.

“Yes, Mr. Bell?”

“It’s very disturbing,” my dad said. I rolled my eyes.

“Dad, you’re a 45-year-old man in bright blue overalls. I don’t think you should be passing judgement on anyone right now.”

“Hey! It’s Halloween,” he replied.

“Exactly,” I said. “Neville is sexier than Mario, anyhow, especially since Mario has that rapey moustache thing going on for him.”

“RAPEY?! My moustache isn’t RAPEY!”

“It is! Plus, there is some kind of sex appeal to a name like Neville Longbottom,” Tara said. “And he did exceptionally well for Transfiguration during his O.W.Ls, didn’t he? If you want, Mr. Bell, you could get him to help you with your outfit.”

My dad frowned.

“I did not understood a word of that. I am going to pretend that you girls are not crazy, and that you will be okay on your own,” he said, standing up. “I left some money on the counter for when you want to order pizza. Don’t burn the house down while I’m away, you know the rules: don’t let strangers in unless they’ve got food, no strippers, and if you are dying, call me so I can say, ‘Hi Dying, I’m Dad!’ He grinned at his own joke. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Just go away, dad,” I said.  

“Awwww, I love you too, honey.”

A kiss on my head, and then he was gone, shuffling out the door in his brown Mario boots. Shaking my head, I walked towards the TV and patted it fondly.  

“TV, you are the only thing that is sane in my life. You are my best friend in the whole wide world.”

“Shut it bitch, we’re your best friends,” Tara quipped from the couch.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” I said to her, and then turned around and whispered, “I’m lying, TV, you are the best.”

“We can hear you, you know,” Sophie mumbled between mouthfull of chips. “Seriously, T, your friend is so weird, where did you even find her?”

“She's not my friend, yours,” Tara answered automatically. 

"No, she's yours."

"No."

"No."

"Jerks!" I said. "I'm replacing the two of you with Netflix."

I turned back around to switch on my new BFF, the television. Dad must have been watching the news or something before we came in, because it was tuned into WABC. There was some kind of accident reporting going on but I ignored it and grabbed my Harry Potter DVDs. Just as I was about to play them, Sophie sprung up from her beanbag chair.