Ezio

Just a Dream

I woke up with a jolt as one of the small kittens tucked under my arm stirred.

I'd been dragged back into reality, the memories of the pain and blood staining my eyes and hooks with my flesh dangling from them slowly began to fade as I reached over to stroke a cat who was balled up on my chest.

I sighed, sitting up, the cat sprawling and padded off my chest, seeming annoyed.

I blinked a few times, looking around, observing.

Where was I?

My room.

Oh.

I rubbed my face and slowly pulled myself out of bed, nearly slipping down the ladder. The only reason I had a bunk bed was because I used to have to share a room with my brother, Max, who was now a college student in some place that I forgot's name.

He was the smart one of the family. I'm not.

I walked downstairs, rubbing my face and moaning softly out of tiredness.

A soreness feeling pulled at my muscles, making every step I took a struggle.

I nearly tripped down the stairs, seeming to have forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other.

"Morning, honey," my mom said. My dad turned and looked at me as if I had three heads.

"Ezio, your hair is too long. You look like a girl," he commented.

"Morning to you too, Dad," I spat.

My hair was too long, shoulder-length... But did it matter?

"One UGLY girl!" The familiar voice of my little cousin, Matthew, rang through my ears.

"Moooooom." I said.

"Why. Is. He. Here."

She looked at me. "Aunt Donna's here too," she noted. "They came over this morning."

They didn't visit often. They lived in England, and we were here, good ol' America.

"How long are they staying?" My sister groaned as she made her way downstairs.

"Two weeks," my mom replied.

"Do I have to share my room with Matthew?" I asked, saying a quick prayer that I didn't.

"Yes," my dad responded. He grabbed hit laptop and was heading out the door.

"But whyyy?" I said, in a very childish voice. I was 17.

Should be able to have liberties over my own room.

But nooo.

"Get over it!" Were my dad's last words before he slammed the door shut behind him.

I sighed, gripping my face in my hands.

"I hate my liffeeee..." I said over-dramatically.

"I know, I know. It's hard, isn't it?" My mom teased.

It only annoyed me.

Matthew grabbed a strand of my currently messy hair, yanked it out, and ran off.

"What the sh-" I began, but was cut off my the weirdo screaming "DNAAAA!!!!"