Insanity

Chapter 13: Juke Box Hero

Right, I have to write this A/N as an apology. And if you don't want to hear my excuses then skip to the update, I won't mind.

Lately I've just been having trouble with finding spare time where I don't want to become a mindless zombie. The reason being is that I have a lot of schoolwork and expectations so it's just a lot easier to switch off and watch TV, such as Fairy Tail, my favourite escape.

And that's my main excuse, I've also been super busy and I tend to avoid things after a long time of not doing them, so it's hard to go back to it once I haven't done anything for awhile.

But enough of that. Who wants an update?

Chapter 13: Juke Box Hero

  All night I was vomiting up that hotdog. It came back up with a vengeance, and my Dad was there the entire time, patting my back and making sure there was as little collateral damage as possible. It’s safe to say I didn’t fully make it to the bathroom a couple of times.

  So today, I wasn’t going to school, instead I was slung over my bed with the covers tangled around me. I had a little bit of a fever, but my Dad exaggerated it and used it as an excuse not to go to work. He was exhausted too.

  At ten fifteen I heard movement downstairs, and then the rumbling of the washing machine. He was doing some washing, good thing too, I threw up on the pile of washing on the floor. I’m still not sure whether it was clean or dirty, neither was my Dad. So it’s safe to say, it will now be clean.

  I heard knocking on my door, so I grunted in response.

  “Hey son,” My Dad poked his head in. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was messy and stuck up all over the place.

  I grunted back in response.

  “You’re going to hate this, but I need your sheets, and all of your clothes.”

  “Why?” I groaned, wiping a hand over my face. I still felt slightly sick. Stupid hotdog.

  “Because it’s washing day. I haven’t washed anything besides a couple of things since we got here. So suck it up, give me your sheets and washing, and walk around in your underwear for a day.”

  “Can I wear a T-shirt?” I asked. He knew what I was implying, I hated showing off my scar. I was almost afraid of it; it brought back too many painful memories.

  He smiled sadly at me. “Sure son, we’ll even watch a movie if it makes you feel better.” Something in his voice hinted at something else though, it was like he was avoiding something as well.

  I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him. “It’s cleaning day too, isn’t it?”

  He groaned. “Well, we might as well just add it to our list of things to do on our day off. So, wanna watch World War Z?” His eagerness had me shaking my head in amusement.

  “We’re doing the cleaning today Dad, it’s either that or our neighbours will think we’re hoarders as well as hobos.” His face fell because he knew I was right. “But first, can you use my sickness to get a good meal from the neighbour? I’m starving and I think any fast food, or meal cooked in our dirty kitchen will make me sick.”

  He grinned wickedly. “How does French toast and blueberries sound? I heard the neighbour talking about them.”

  “Dad, you are such a bad influence,” He chuckled at me, “But get cream and strawberries too.”