I'm Not Dead

[ C H . 2 ]

The sound was distant at first, like the fading voice of a dream, but when I opened my eyes the noise was undeniably coming from the room next to me.

Rolling onto my stomach, I pulled my pillow over my head as my head throbbed and eyes stung from the sunlight glaring into the guest bedroom. Eleanor was playing her Gibson, an obnoxiously loud brand of electric guitar, and the second I could convince myself to get out of bed—I was going to kill her with it.

As I attempted to block out her obnoxious playing, I tried to recall what happened last night. I don't remember coming home, so someone must've picked me up. Likely Lorenzo. He was the only one who could drive, and mom stopped picking me up a long time ago. 

Closing my eyes for a moment, I managed to retrace my steps up to my tenth shot, but I couldn't remember anything past that. Or maybe it was my fifth? I never bothered keeping track, I just threw them back until I felt like finding some company. Some days it'd take ten, some days five.

For a moment then, Eleanor stopped playing, but she must've plugged in her amp because the guitar riffed impossibly louder.

Clenching my fist, I banged on the wall between her bedroom and the guest bedroom. "Shut up El! Go play that damn thing in the basement!" I shouted. She just kept playing. Gritting my teeth, finally motivated to get out of bed, I threw off my covers and stormed out of the guest bedroom. Her door was locked, but the doorknob was old and easy to manipulate into popping open. When I stumbled in, she stopped playing to throw one of her pillows at me. 

"Get out Rocco! It's not my fault you were out all-night drinking, next time get a hotel or sleep at your apartment!" She shouted, blocking the amp with her smaller body but I pushed her aside with ease and unplugged it. "I have a show tonight, I need to practice, this is a good opportunity!" She grumbled, plugging the amp back in the second I stepped away.

Narrowing my eyes at her, my head pulsated as I unplugged it again. "I have no problem smashing this amp to bits if you don't shut up and let me go back to sleep. I'm sure everyone else will agree." I hoped she could detect the severity of my tone. El was a little sister though, they weren't good at detecting anything except your hiding places.

Pointing at her clock, Eleanor laughed sarcastically. "It's almost noon Rocco, the dead get up earlier than you!" Quickly, she jerked towards her nightstand, as I reached forward to grab her amp. I got a hold of it but dropped it when she pointed the barrel of her mace at me. "If you don't let go of my amp I'll blind you!" She threatened, practically screaming at me.

Huffing, I held up my hands in defeat. "Fine baby psycho! I'll just go tell mom!" I yelled, knowing that was a weak counterattack, but I needed some aspirin and sleep. Hopefully my mom would share my distaste with Eleanor's playing and shut it down on my behalf.

So, with a glare, I allowed Eleanor to shove me out into the hall.

She then slammed her door in my face "You're a real mature guy Rocco! A great role model for the youth!" She shouted, going back to playing her guitar. I hated that damn thing. I hated her. El was far from being my favorite sister, or sibling for that matter. She was always the quickest to criticize me or argue with me, I can't remember the last time we peacefully coincided together.

Rubbing my temples, I turned on my heel and stormed down the hall to my mother's room, where she was working on putting her chestnut brown hair in a bun. She was dressed in her light blue nurse's uniform, the silver name tag already attached. 

The second I stepped into her room, she held up a stern finger. "I already know why you're in here Rocco. You're both adults. Stop acting like Mateo and Alice," she said, before turning around to look at me. She looked tired. More so than usual.