The Firefly Field Theory

|6| Shit Happens: Part I

Hello everyone!

This chapter is dedicated to one of my few Very AWESOME readers, who supported the story! Thankyou!

I hope you like it and if you do, don't forget to drop a vote and comment!

|_________________________________________________________|

PART I:

I wake up a little panicked. I surely wasn't sharp enough to expect this kind of cacophony so early in the morning. I calm myself look around and lay down once again. Mom doesn't even flinch, she's sleeping so peacefully beside me maybe she popped a NyQuil before bed. I close me eyes and try again. I'm at the brink of falling back to sleep when  the most absurd and uncalled for sounds make me flinch. I try a second time, and the bizzarre orchestra as if on cue starts from the top. What the hell is going on here? I sit up in bed. Curled up in a creme coloured comforter right next to me is Mom who I'm guessing is probably high on NyQuil.  She's relatively unaffected by the early morning chorus courtesy of the dutiful chickens of society.

Maybe I should wait a little, maybe it will stop. It can't possibly last that long right?

Denial is a bitch. Because no matter how long I waited the shrilly chicken music just wouldn’t stop, of the many thoughts that pop in my head a few pressing questions are: What are chickens doing in the city? Moreover what are they doing outside my window? While I'm sleeping? Who brainwashed these poor little guys to believe humans are so stupid, the Sun isn’t enough to tell them it is day time.

Ultimately, complete loss of hope in any sort of mercy from the class aves, results in me getting out of bed, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, taking one last envious look at Mom and then heading out of the bedroom. The TV room, is sandwiched between the dinning room and our bedroom. In this house, the always occupied rooms or the public rooms are so close to the hardly ever occupied rooms or the private rooms. I can't imagine how anybody could get any privacy here. 

On the dining table, the first person I see is Wall-e. He is hunched over his breakfast like it will run off or something. The black goggles fixed over his head, reflect the sunlight falling on them directly into my eyes. I walk in and Mamo greets me first. I pass him a smile and he goes back to reading the paper and cup of tea. I look around quickly, Wall-e and Z are seated on one side and opposite to them are Bravo and Annie.

"Good morning." Bravo looks up from her plate. I sit down next to her, and try my best not to stare at them.

Really. How cute is this, through the pink lacey curtains, the dewy yellow sunlight bathes the entire room. I reach out to the stack of toasts, pick the one on the top and start covering it in jam.  The whole family is seatted all comfortable and somebody has always got something to say. Since I am the only one who isn't a direct sibling I can class myself as the alien in the room. And since I am the only one who can't speak Urdu I am out of the circle.

Whenever mom and I sat down at the table to eat, back in the U.S. We somehow felt the deficit of things to say. I mean how long can you ask someone how their day was. That shit's gotta stop somewhere, especially if you yourself don't even know how your day went. The very defeciency of things to talk about led to discussions about the weather. Even if it was just subtle hints, Mom and I just had to mention the weather once throughout our conversation.

These folks can't be talking about the weather. If they are, they do seem pretty excited that it's warm and humid today, much like yesterday. Maybe these are real families, they don't talk about the lameness that is the regional weather. After a while, Mamo leaves the table, and when I ask Bravo where he's headed she tells me he's headed to the cilinic. From what she tells me I gather, that Mamo is a pediatric surgeon in other words a doctor in other words super busy most of the time.