Unwritten

The Love and Hate Between Siblings

Tempus fugit. It feels like before I even have the time to blink, it's Saturday. I wake up on Saturday feeling groggy from a good night's sleep. I recall the voice and how I told it to stop. It listened to me. When I covered my ears, It didn't continue it's pursuit.

I go outside at 9:30 in the morning, right after I fully wake up. I put on my skates and leave for about an hour. By the time I get back, Lance is awake and waiting for breakfast so I begin making French toast. "Sissy?" Lance is coming down the steps. Oh no. He needs his shoes or dad will kill me.

"Get your shoes first Chicken Nugget." I tell him quietly; I don't want to wake anyone up yet. He always forgets to put on his shoes before he comes downstairs. I hear him shuffle back up the steps to get his shoes. Oh thank god.

"Got it." He stumbles down the steps. He comes in the kitchen and immediately sits in his chair at the head of the table; it's his favorite spot.

"Are you ready to eat? Do you want syrup?" I ask him as I make his plate. He shakes his head up and down, yes, really fast. I think he got dizzy though because he hit his head on the glass kitchen table. The sound echoes around the room as the vibrations bounce off the table. "Are you okay goof?" I ask walking to the table with his plate. He looks up at me; he was about to scream. I can't let him cry. "Hey, don't cry. You'll wake up Dada. You don't wanna do that do you?" He shakes his head. "Come here bud." I kneel down in front of him. He crawls into my arms. "Do you want to help me pour the milk?" He nods but not as fast as before; he's learned his lesson. "Get your ladder." He waddles to get his ladder and brings it to the counter. I pick him up and lift him to the cups. "Get some cups." He grabs two cups and I put him down.

As I get out the syrup from the pantry, he baby-walks to the fridge to retrieve the milk container for us. I have to assist him because it's too heavy. He manages to get straws, for the milk, and open the microwave for the syrup, without any help from me. I lift him up to press the start button on the microwave and together we watch as the syrup bottle spins round and round while it warms.

Lance walks back to his seat and I cut up his food before he gets impatient. As I watch him eat I'm filled with a sense of accomplishment and sadness.

I feel happy that I did this for him by myself but sad for the same reason. Why won't our parents do this? I find myself asking this question a lot when it comes down to me taking care of Jordan and Lance.

My thinking is cut short when he announces he is done. I scarf down the rest of my food, however unpleasant, because he won't wait for long. We both clean up and go upstairs. I set up the TV and put him in the living room with our sleeping dad. "Now you gotta be quiet okay? Don't wake up dad." I remind him before I leave.

I leave to organize my room for about twenty minutes. I finish cleaning, and remove my computer from the case. I turn on my writing music and commence with the unforeseeable future on my novel. In the middle of my writing, I get suddenly thirsty. The kind of thirst that makes your mouth dry. I go down the carpeted stairs to the kitchen and pour myself some water from the fridge filter. The coffee pot is full of freshly brewed coffee. While I'm down here I may as well grab some coffee to go.

My coffee is commonly known to be sweet. I usually add white chocolate syrup, milk and caramel into it. I love to play around with the different flavorings we have in our pantry. My friends sometimes tell me I should open a coffee shop one day. Today though, I just want a normal cup of decaf coffee. I finish drinking and go back upstairs. After writing for another hour or so I fall asleep on my desk.

I was woken up at 2:00 pm when a loud bang of the front door, which my bedroom is right on top of, shakes the house. The front door slams again... and again. Lance is crying in the other room, scared by the loud sounds. He must have been scared awake too. My motherly instincts-even though I'm the sister-took hold of me. I practically run through the bedroom door and living room door. Dad is gone and Mom is yelling at Lance to shut up. I give my mom a look that tells her to shut up.

"You can't talk to him like that; it'll make him scream more because it scares him." I reach for Lance and he crawls into my arms, crying silently now that he has someone to hold him. I shoot my mom the "I told you so" look and rub the back of his head. "It's okay buddy. I got you." I whisper into his ear.

"He should be scared. It'll teach him not to cry. It's annoying." I hate it when she does this. She thinks it'll make him stronger in the future if she scares him into not doing anything but it does the total opposite.

"Mom that is not how it works." I walk out with Lance and sing to him. "But you don't really care for music do ya. It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, and the major lift. The baffled king composing hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah." I sing to Lance as his cries became gradually quieter. He calms down so I sit him in front of my school computer and turned on some random youtube video about the alphabet.

I walk out of my room. "Be right back. Okay, bud?" He doesn't answer, distracted by the colors and songs in the video. My teachers always question why there's children's videos in my search history but most of them understand it now.My mom is standing in the doorway of the living room. "What was all that?" I ask my mom. "Why was the door slamming? Where's Dad?" She doesn't answer for a minute so I stare at her like a deer in headlights.

"Your grandmother got mad that we called her out on her shopping spree yesterday. We told her that she should be paying the bills with that money instead of making you pay them with money you worked hard to make." No she didn't. She probably didn't even mention me paying the bills. She probably called my grandma lazy and worthless like she does with everyone else. My grandma can't help it she stress shops. It's not the best way to take care of your stress but it's better than beating your kids down. I go back to my room without correcting my mom.

Lance sneaks out of my room to play with Jordan and Lina so I go back to sleep. I wake up around seven at night. My parents are already in the shower washing Lance. I grab a bowl of cereal for dinner before I go to sleep. I brush my teeth and lay in bed. I binge watch TV shows and movies on Netflix until I finally fall asleep at three in the morning.

I wake up at 10:00 am on Sunday and decidedly go back to sleep until 12:00 pm. That's when I notice no one is home. I go downstairs to get some water and go back to my room. I set up my laptop and open my word document again to continue my story. Lost in my writing, I lose track of time again. Soon it is time for me to get ready for bed but no one has come home yet so I take a long hot shower enjoying the lack of yelling throughout the house. I turn on some music on my cell phone and lay in bed, reading until I fall asleep.

I wake up early for school on Monday. I go to school and mind my own business pretty well all day. Once I get home, I do my daily chores and my homework. Lance joines me right as I finish my last assignment. Lance and I lay in bed and watch movies on my computer after I've finished my homework until it's time for him to go back with our parents. After he leaves, I draw in my sketchbook with music blastic through my earbuds.

I look at the clock. It's 9:00 pm. I missed dinner again. Looking at my phone, Mason had texted me quite a few times and I had missed calls from him too. I call him. He answers after the second ring. "Sorry I fell asleep as soon as I got home."

"I know. I texted right after I got home from classes and you never replied." I feel bad now but there isn't much I could have done I was asleep. "I just called to see if you were okay. I was going to bed so I called to let you know." I tell him that I was fine, just extremely tired. We say our good night and hang up. Some time passes while I stare at the ceiling. A very random thought passes through my mind

I live my life on repeat. It's like I'm a robot; I do the same thing everyday like clockwork. Well, at least I haven't had any weird things happen today. This thought is very unsettling to me; as if it isn't even my thoughts to begin with. I restlessly and uncomfortably go to sleep.