"A thousand?"
"Honey, don't talk with your mouth full," My mom says, gently tapping my chin.
"I thought we were covered!" I screech, pancake particles flying everywhere. Onyx happily trots into the room, lapping up up my pancake spit. Even the sight of my overweight dog lapping up my own spit couldn't make me smile. It is a dark day, indeed.
"Honey, I want you to understand that our family isn't very financially stable. Between your father's job at the theater, and my job as a nurse, we barely manage to scrape by."
Said father is currently making my daily cup of coffee while murmuring lines from Hamlet.
"Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift as meditation or the thoughts of love, may sweep to my revenge," He suddenly shouts, shaking his fist. It seems he does not realize that his fist is holding my coffee, and my coffee is very hot. He let out a squeak, then drops the mug in surprise. We both stare at the shattered mug in despair.
As if he knew what was about to happen, my dad jumps up and races upstairs, desperately calling, "HELP! HELP!"
I can almost feel my eyes turn red in rage. I look around the kitchen, searching for my father's kryptonite. My lips tug up in an evil smirk as I spot the peanut butter.
My mother looks at me, shaking her head as she says, "That was my favorite mug. You go gettim, Ry."
My feet pound on the kitchen tiles as I grab the peanut butter and dash after my father.
"Robert. Stump. YOU HAVE FAILED THIS CITY," I cry as I spot my dad hiding in the shower stall. I then draw my peanut butter coated fingers back (like an arrow), and shoot.
Buttery hands grab graying hair as desperate hands try to slap them away. I smear a whole hanful across his stomach and he whimpers. I laugh manically as I manage to get a dollop of peanut butter between his teeth. He screams in agony as his tired legs allow him to slip to the floor. I'm still psychotically laughing when cold water suddenly stabs against my back. Little pinpricks of the water run over my skin, mixing with the peanut butter. Both my father and I are screaming now.
"Turn it off!" "I can't!" Why not?" "I can't find my glasses!" "Who turned it on?"
"I did," My evil sister (from another mister) says, "School starts in ten minutes and you aren't even ready! And you, Robert, I expected more from you! You're 38 for pete's sake! And your play started an hour ago!"
My dad and I both look at eachother in surprise before we scramble to our feet. He runs to his room, dripping cold water. I can see Onyx try to catch every droplet as he chases my dad. I crack a smile, then grab Sam's outstretched hand.
She sighs," What happened this time? Dad drank your coffee? Dad borrowed your conditioner? Dad ate your not-so-secret stash of zebra cakes?"
I pouted and answered," He dropped the mug! My coffee and mom's mug died in an instant!"
"You don't even drink the coffee!" Sam screeches.
She's right. I have this weird fetish where I only smell the coffee. The smell is just so intoxicating, so I make my dad brew a cup for me every day. Then when I get to school and meet Sam, I give it to her. It's a weird tradition, but we've kept it since freshmen year.
"Yeah, but it's like nicotine to me! I can't go a day without it!" She just sighs again and shakes her head.
I grunt. It's annoying how much sighing is done in this household.
"Whatever, now get your sweet ass up and get the hell ready!" I grin and run off into my room.
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YOU ARE READING
Five Minutes to Midnight
Novela Juvenil"Five minutes!" Jason's shoulders hunched in front of the wheel, total concentration taking over his features. "Four minutes!" I heard his foot slam down on the gas pedal. "Three minutes!" I was sounding desperate. I had gone through too much to giv...
