Pestilence

Eight- The Scream

Harry and I head toward our respective homes. I wonder what I'll need to take; toothbrush, hairbrush, deoderant, jumpers, socks...

"What are you thinking about Tee'?" Harry asks.

"Underwear." I pause when I realised I had literaly said the next item on my mental list of belongings to take aloud. Harry snorts a laugh.

"You trying to work out what sort of underwear Merchant's got?" Harry sniggers. "I bet the waistband is diamond encrusted."

"Harry!" I reprimand.

"Mental checklist?" he muses. I nod.

"Don't forget..." he coughs dramatically and falsely. "towels."

I nod frantically, completelly forgeting about... towels.

As we turn into Ruskin I share a glance with my dark haired Godbrother.

"I'm taking a shower." I say upon opening the door. "Do you have the key to come in?"

"Tommy has it." he replies.

"I'll lock the door and pass mine to you through the letterbox." I huff, opening the door to my house, locking it behind me and passing my godbrother the door key.

Going upstairs, I peel off my sticky PJ's and dart into the bathroom to shower.

I decide to continue my mental checklist as I shower.

Toothbrush, hairbrush, deoderant, jumpers, socks, underwear...towels, my bath stuff, jumpers, vests, hair scrunchies, food, lots of food.

I get out of the shower and dry off in the bathroom, heading into my room I put on an oversized sweater that once belonged to my dad and leggings, I pick up a rucksack as my hair dries in a towel and stuff all of my underwear and socks in there. I decide to wear my gym sneakers since it's not exactly the sort of situation one would be prepping to look amazing in.

The door opens.

"MUM?" I ask hopefully.

"Nope. Sorry Tee' you're stuck with me." Harry says, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Want to do me a favour? Grab as much food as you can; the good shit that Merchant's too prestegious to eat." I command.

"Aye aye captain Tee'." Harry mutters sarcastically. Moments later I hear a can crack open.

"Dude!" I huff. "It's like nine am!"

"Nine fifteen ACTUALLY!" he replies childishly. I swear; Noah's return to Grays has reawakened Harry's old self; the brotherly sarcastic self, the happy ten year old Harry.

"Knock yourself out. Just don't touch my Pepsi." I shout.

"Oh shit!" he exclaims. "Oh shit." he echoes his words. I roll my eyes, stuuffing my toiletries into the rucksack, followed by comfy yet flattering jumpers and leggings. I live in leggings since they flatter my bloated whale like figure.

Toothbrush, check.

Hairbrush, check.

Deoderant, check.

Second deoderant, check.

Jumpers, check.

Leggings, check.

Socks and underwear, check, check. Check for socks and check for underwear.

...Towels, check.

Vests! I delve into my closet and find my floaty white vest and green skirt encase it's humid. I stuff that into the half full rucksack. My eyes widen, I forgot about razors. I grab a fistful of cheap disposable razors and put them in the bag too.