JAD First Chapter Full

~Introduction~

When it started, we all knew something was happening. It was just that none of us had any idea what. & the only thing I can think is that this is all just a bad dream. I watched too many sci-fi movies before bed & I must’ve eaten something that’s sending my brain funky signals & the result is this messed up dream. This just can’t be real. There’s no way. But, I haven’t woken up yet… & that’s what scares me the most. 




~Chapter I~

So, there’s this big tall thing. & it’s like… A building or something. But, it’s moving. Like, each floor can revolve or some shit. & there’s a lot of lights. Seriously, I mean every light in every window is on. & they’re bright mothers, let me tell you. & this building is tall. Really tall. Gotta crane my neck all the way back to see the top. Don’t understand how the thing can be that tall, but, well, it is. 

& there are people, everywhere, everywhere, they’re bustling. But it’s not a fray, it’s not uncoordinated. It hasn’t got that sense of disorientation or anxiety or rush, rush, rush like normal crowds do. These people are just here, they have business to attend to, & they’re going about their merry ways. Except, they aren’t very merry. No, they’re actually all pretty apathetic looking. Like they don’t really care about anything. Even about whatever tasks it is that they’re headed to. They just do. They just are.

There’s noise, too, I think. I can’t really place what it is, but it reminds me of a construction site or something. The sky is black up above, so I don’t know why they’re working at night, but that’s what it sounds like. I guess that blinding light coming from the tall building is day light enough for them. It’s enough for me, too. Hell, as I’m standing there, I have to shield my eyes to keep from getting blinded.

& then it changes. I’m in a desert, with the midday sun burning right above me, making me sweat. There’s a breeze, though. As I sit here in this dusty Jeep, as the Jeep drives through the barren desert surrounding it. The dry air rushes past, soaking up some of the salty perspiration on my neck & forehead. The road is bumpy, not very comfortable. I hold onto the holy shit handle & glance over at the driver.

I realize I don’t know him. Actually, I can’t even really tell what he really looks like. He’s wearing goggles & a kerchief over his mouth (probably to protect himself from the dust), but I can just tell that I don't know him. I shout something at him, but I can’t hear my voice. He does, however, apparently, hear me. He replies, I know, despite the cover over his lips, because I can hears bits & clips of his voice over the sound of the engine. I still don’t know what he said, though.

The boy’s eyes widen suddenly, & the breaks slam on. I hear screeching, I feel the seat belt dig into my shoulder, & then there’s a loud crash. But then there’s nothing but blackness, & a great, great silence. Except… Wait… There!… There’s something… Again… & again… A dripping. Light, somewhere close. Drip, drip, drip. The blackness goes away rather suddenly as something bright is shone into my eyeballs. It’s the boy from the Jeep, & he’s totally okay. He doesn’t even have any desert dust on his clothes.

I sit up, to find myself on a dirty & bare mattress that’s laying on a wooden floor. I stand & the boy lowers the flashlight he's holding to put his hand on my back, between my shoulder blades. He says something again, but I still can’t hear him. It’s like I’ve got water in my ears, or cotton balls or something shoved up there. His voice is muffled, but I can still understand the inflections. He doesn’t even sound worried at all. Does he not remember the car crash? Except he leads me outside & the Jeep is right there, sitting pretty.

Another change. Again. I’m in a car. Again. Except this is a normal car, & it seems really familiar. I’m in the backseat, & the people in the front are quietly talking to each other. There’s no need for them to speak so softly, though. It’s just apparently one of those days, I can see, as I stare out of the window. The sky is completely gray, leaking with a light rain, & the faces of the people in the cars passing by are all morose. Well, not necessarily morose… Just bored. Blank. Not there. It’s a blah day, & everyone’s feeling it.

But then there’s a break in the clouds, revealing that yes, the blue sky & the sun are still up there behind the cloud’s thick blanket. Except, there isn’t a sun in this little keyhole look at the sky. Instead of the sun, there’s a large black… Something. It looks as if the very sky itself was being torn apart, with flames licking at the edges. We keep driving & the clouds cover up the sight again, but then another break comes up. & now, instead of just the massive hole, there’s all these black twisting things. & they look like they’re falling to the earth…

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“Aubrianna, Isleen, Brinkley!!! Wake up, now!!” A screeching, loud & piercing in my ear. I grumble something & turn over in my bed, my sheets twisting around me in a protective cocoon. I hear something, a sigh of annoyance, & then footsteps. & then suddenly it’s very cold & I feel very naked & exposed. With a yelp, I sit up in my bed & glare at the offending blanket stealer. My eyes narrow as I see my eccentric mother, standing at the foot of my bed, with all of my sheets & comforter in hand. She throws them back onto the bed & crosses her arms.

“Young lady, wake up & get ready, now.” She says haughtily while giving me the eye. I stare blankly at her. I’m too tired to comprehend anything right now except for the fact that I’m still cold. I do, however, recognize what my mother is wearing. Which is rather unfortunate. Does the woman have any concept whatsoever of what she puts on her body? A giant poncho with haphazard patterns & colors that hurt my eyes. Of course, everything hurts my eyes right now, considering my pupils just woke up too. My mother raises a brow, noticing me scrutinizing her outfit. I’m sure she knows what I think of it.

“I don’t want to hear it, Aubrey. Just get up & get ready for school or you’re going to be late.” She tells me before marching out of my room. I notice that she’s wearing a scarf around her head & earrings that are way too huge for someone her age. I sigh & hang my head. It’s any wonder I grew up fairly normal with her as a parent. Shaking my head, I run a hand through my bed-head hair & throw my legs off the side of my bed. With a yawn, I stand & robotically walk towards my bathroom. Although she said I needed to wake up now or I’d be late, I know my mom was exaggerating. She always wakes me up like that, & always more than an hour early. I’m in no hurry. 

Without much thought, I disrobe & step into my shower, turning on the water & letting it warm & wake me. Half an hour later (because I take long showers like that) I am clean & bathed. Apply lotion, brush my teeth, blow dry my hair. Get dressed (in something much more fashion appropriate & figure flattering than that atrocity my mother is garbed in), add the accessories, put on my face, sprits on some perfume. Gather my school books, stuff them in my book bag, grab my iPod & my purse & walk out of my room with fifteen minutes to spare. 

As I enter the hallway, I feel a mass run into me & then a loud thud as something hits the ground. I automatically check my belongings, but everything’s fine. I glance down at my feet & notice Finnley. Apparently he’s who bumped into me, & he fell down onto his little prepubescent butt. I resist the urge to chuckle, but a smile breaks out on my face anyway. I lend him a hand.

“Sorry, kid.” I apologize, helping him pull himself up off the ground. He wipes the wrinkles from his polo shirt, fixes his hair, & sends me one of his signature goofy grins.

“It’s no problem, Bri.” He says in his normal happy-go-lucky way, sea green eyes sparkling. I don’t understand how someone could possibly be so upbeat in the morning. I muss with his sandy brown hair, to which he replies with a defiant “Hey!” & pushes my hand away. I let myself chuckle this time & wrap my arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“It’s not my fault that you’re too adorable for your own good.” I tell him with a smile, walking with him down the hall. He rolls his eyes a bit, but I can see that he’s blushing. He’s a sensitive little dude, & he is mighty adorable. Even if he is only my half brother, I love him like a whole one. 

Yeah, he’s my half brother. & I have a half sister, too. Lilliana. But I assume she’s still sleeping. She’s not quite the morning person like Finnley is. Finn is twelve, Lill is fourteen, & I’m the oldest at seventeen. My mom remarried when I was only two, so I don’t really remember my biological father. Greg’s been my real dad throughout my life, & while I love the old man to pieces, it still doesn’t feel exactly right. I see pictures of my biological father, hear stories of him from my mother, try to focus the fuzzy memories of him that I do have… & I wish that I could know him now. Wish that I could talk to him, ask him what happened. Cause my mother sure as hell won’t tell me.

Finn & I reach the staircase & I let him go down ahead of me. Thinking about my father always makes me space out. I drag my feet as I move, until I reach the bottom of the stairs & step onto the smooth wooden floor of the foyer. The living room (where we don’t do much living… It’s more of a ‘sitting’ room.) is to my left, the study to my right. Behind me is the kitchen, & that’s where I head. I can smell French toast & my tummy rumbles. While my mother is an incredibly strange individual, she’s a mighty good cook. Finn is already seated at the island in the middle of the kitchen, a plate in front of him.

I follow suit & plop myself down beside him, setting my things on the floor next to my stool. Mom sends me a sly look as she hands me a plate of French toast. I role my eyes & grab some utensils. Yes, mother, I owe you oh so much for waking me up just in the nick of time. I cut a piece off of the thick, vanilla-y, doused in syrup & sprinkled with powdered goodness bread & stick it in my mouth. Mmm… Mom’s French toast. 

Moments later, there’s a rumbling on the staircase. None of us are phased, even as there’s the sound of something heavy being thrown roughly onto the floor. It’s the same routine everyday, none of us bat an eyelash. There’s stomping & then there she is, Lilliana, as she bursts into the kitchen & slams down onto one of the chairs at the dinning table. She grumbles a curse & glares at mom. 

“Thanks for waking me up, Mother.” Miss Priss, as I lovingly call my half-sister, hisses angrily. Mom says nothing, but gives her a firm look as she hands Lilliana a plate of French toast.

“I did wake you up, Lilliana. Right before I woke Bri.” Mom says, making her way back to the stove to start another batch of French toast for herself, & for Greg when he comes down. Lilliana grimaces & stubbornly cuts a piece of French toast.

“Well, you obviously didn’t do a good job at it.” She mumbles as she sticks the piece of food into her mouth. Mother rolls her eyes. We all know Lill never wakes up unless you manually throw her out of her bed, we all know that I don’t usually wake up unless you rip the blankets off of me, & we all know that Finn never has any need to be woken up. Cause he’s always the first one awake in the morning, anyway. 

I finish my food & I’ve got about five minutes to wait for my ride to come pick me up. My ride being my best friend’s rusty old tank of a car. It’s got to be at least twenty years old. I think it’s an Oldsmobile. Or a Buick. Hell, I don’t know. I don’t give a flying shit about anything dealing with cars. Which is why, even though Greg & Mom so graciously said they’d buy me a car when I turned sixteen last year, I am one of the very few seniors at my school who doesn’t own their own car. But, I am sure, I am the only one who has absolutely no grudge against their car-less status. 

“Mom,” I say, standing & pulling the strap of my book bag over my shoulder. “I’m gunna go wait outside for Kirk.” I kid you not, my friend’s name is Kirk. Kirk McGill. I can’t say that the name doesn’t suit him, though. Because, like his parents (obviously, considering they named their freaking child Kirk), he is a major nerd. But, more so in the technology & interwebz area than for Star Trek.   

“Alright honey, have a good day at school.” My mother says, glancing over at me to send me a smile before turning back to her cooking. I grab my purse & throw the strap over my other shoulder, give Finn another hair ruffle, & then head back the way I came in. As I walk through the hallway that leads to the foyer, I hear heavy footfalls on the stairwell. I reach the bottom of the stairs at the same time Greg does. 

“Morning, Greg.” I say to my step-father. He’s a fairly tall man, has a bit of a gut, but isn’t fat. He’s got a full beard & mustache ensemble, as peppered with white as his still surprisingly full head of hair is. He’s a very dad-ly looking dude. 

“Good morning, Aubrey. Have a nice day a school, dear. I’ll see you at dinner.” He says, giving me his usual firm pat on the shoulder before shuffling off to the kitchen. It’s the overpowering draw of my mother’s cooking. I smirk & shake my head, walking the few more feet to the front door & walking out into the crisp morning air. Just in time, too, cause Kirk is just pulling up to the curb.

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“God, I had the weirdest freaking dream last night.” This could be my line. In all honesty, it probably should be. But no, this is Kirk talking to me as the two of us walk up to our high school amongst the sea of other students who prefer to be on time. “Like, it was a mix between The Matrix, National Treasure, & Star Wars.” He pushes his glasses up his nose, a look of concentration on his face. I can’t help but laugh, but he doesn’t notice.  

“You had a movie marathon before you went to bed last night, didn’t you?” I ask Kirk with a grin, he shrugs nonchalantly & I shake my head while snickering. “If you watch an abundance of weird movies before you go to bed, then you’re bound to have freaky dreams.” I say matter-of-factly. “Actually, dreams, by nature, are bound to always be weird & freaky. That’s just what dreams are.” 

Kirk snorts a laugh at me, I glance sideways at him with a ‘wtf is *snort* suppose to mean?’ look. “What are dreams, anyway? I know, technically speaking, it’s just your brain remembering what’s happened to it that day. & it just turns into these weird clips & scenes that our mind’s eye sees while we’re sleeping.” He explains in his ‘I wikipedia’d it, but I know it’s true cause I saw it on this one Discovery/Health/National Geographic/History/Science channel program once’ voice. “But, I mean… What are dreams really actually for? Why do we actually have to have them? I mean, you’d think the brain could remember stuff without us needing to watch it do so. So… Is it like… Entertainment for ourselves when we’re asleep? I mean, honestly, how useless is that? We’re asleep for Christ’s sake, we don’t need a TV playing on the inside of our eyelids for us to watch while we sleep because, god forbid, if we get bored.” Kirk just shakes his head, but I burst into laughter. He tries to ask me what the hell I’m laughing at, but the first bell rings & cuts him off. 

“I’ll see you in class, Kirk.” I say through my laughter before heading off to homeroom. I expertly maneuver my way through the sea of my classmates. Because, after so many years of making your way through the rush hour traffic jam that is school hallways, you inevitably become an expert at ducking your way around, through, & sometimes, in rare cases, underneath of people to get to your classes. 

& I have always wondered this… Like on the highway, during rush hour, why does it become such a traffic jam? You’d think if everyone were going the speed limit that such a jam wouldn’t happen, ya know? But, I suppose, it’s just too many cars &, in school, too many people spilling out into this one place, merging & whatnot, that accidents will occur & it will become a veritable jumblefuck.   

Ah, se la vie. 

I get to homeroom & go slump into my usual seat at the back of the room by the windows. There’s really nothing at all notable about homeroom. I pull out a book, so do a few other kids. Some are slouching in their seats, the hoods of their hoodies covering their heads, asleep. Some listening to their mp3 players even though you aren’t technically allowed to, but most homeroom teachers don’t really give a shit. Some girls are whispering gossip, some nerds are checking their homework, some people are texting or playing games on their phones. The fat kid who sits next to me breaths heavily & his chair groans in the effort it takes to keep his fat ass from tumbling to the linoleum tiled floor. The teacher takes role halfheartedly. The announcements that no one listens to come on. The national anthem plays for the Pledge of Allegiance that no one says or stands for. The bell rings. We leave. 

I get to my first period & sit down as the teacher asks for everyone to send up their homework from last night. I grab the papers from my bag & hand them to the person in front of me, & then I pretty much space out. I stare out of the window next to me & wonder why in the hell school has to start so early. The teachers can’t like getting up out of bed this early, & sure as hell the students don’t either. Our brains really don’t start working until like lunch time, so why can’t our days start then? Well, maybe that’s a bit too late for a school day to start, but still, seriously… Elementary & middle school kids should have to wake up as early as high schoolers do, & we high schoolers should be able to sleep in the extra hour or so that they get to. I mean, they don’t need to sleep as much as we do. Take Finn for instance, he always wake up early anyway. So… Like, the hell? The hell is the reason for starting the days so early for everyone everywhere anyway? I just don’t get it. Sleep is so much more appealing than work & school… There seriously should be some sort of meeting about the time the worlds’ morning alarm clocks should be going off or something. We should get to have naptime halfway through the day or something at the very least, anyway. I’ll have to write a letter. 

“Ms. Brinkley?” I hear my last name spoken in that The-Teacher-Is-About-To-Own-You-In-Front-Of-The-Class kind of tone & notice that the class is quiet & pretty much everyone is staring at me. I turn my head to glance up at Mr. Finch, who’s standing in front of my desk. I raise a brow at him. 

“Yes, Mr. Finch?” I ask as pleasantly as I can seeing as my mind is still on that whole ‘The sky is still dark & I should still be in bed’ train of thought. Mr. Finch frowns a bit & taps the ruler he’s holding against the palm of his hand as he looks at me. I contemplate for a moment about the times when teachers used to slap those things across students’ knuckles for misbehaving & I wonder, seeing as I’ve never slapped myself in the knuckles with a wooden ruler before, if that would really hurt at all to make a good enough punishment.

“Ms. Brinkley, could you answer the question I just asked the class?” He asks me, his voice tinted with smugness. He thinks he’s about to pwn me. He thinks that this is going to embarrass me in front of my peers & I’m going to become a sobbing mess & rush into the girl’s bathroom & lock myself into a stall after class from the crushing humiliation of it all. Why oh why didn’t I pay attention, he’ll ask of me, none of this would have happened if I had. Well, sir, because it’s too fucking early to bother thinking about algebra right now. 

“No, Mr. Finch, I cannot answer the question you just asked the class, seeing as I did not hear it.” I state, rather matter-of-factly, to Mr. Finch’s obvious chagrin, for he now knows he’s lost the game. I am too powerful a player in these little plays for dominance between student & teacher. I even garner some snickers (the laughing kind, not the candy kind, though that would be delicious) from some fellow classmates. I silently commend them for their sense of humor.  “However, Mr. Finch, if you were to reiterate your query then I might be able to help.”

Mr. Finch frowns deeper at me, but I don’t back down from his glare of Teacher Doom. He asks me the question, I assume, that he asked the class before & it takes me only a moment of thought to answer it. It was pretty similar to a problem from last night’s homework. Defeated by my correct answer & with his student-pwned tail between his legs, Mr. Finch nods & walks back to the front of the class & tells us to pull out our notebooks & start taking notes. We’re going to have a test next week & we need to be prepared. I sigh, satisfied with my victory, but also in resignation that I should actually probably take some notes. 

Yes, I am a sarcastic smartass who tends to not listen all that much to her teachers in class. But, I DO pay attention when needed. I might not seem like the kind of person who cares, but I like getting As & Bs, thanks. Cs just don’t cut it for me. I’m not all that sure what I want to do in my life yet, but whatever it is getting an average of Cs really can’t be all that impressive. Not if I want to be any good at whatever it is I end up doing, anyway. &, seeing as I’m fairly a bit of a perfectionist, I’d like to be any good at whatever it is I end up doing. 

Class goes by in a blur, as does the next class, until it’s finally lunch. I find Kirk at our usual table, after getting my generic crappy school cafeteria lunch food platter, sitting with the rest of our nerdy outcast friends & sit down next to him. I take a bite of my rubbery pizza & unscrew the cap on my bottled water to take a drink while I try to decipher the conversation going on with my friends around me through the white noise of all the other students packed in the same cafeteria having their own separate conversations. Soon my ears adjust to the voices speaking in my little group & all of the others kind of haze out into a hum in the back of my mind. Another valuable skill one learns after being a student for the majority of their life.

“Guys, c’mon, it’s one of the best animes out there!” Eric, a tall lanky guy with unfortunate acne problems, states rather defensively. His bushy brows furrowing, causing a crease to form between them. But all the while he’s staring at his food instead of the group, afraid of confrontation. 

“It’s not a bad anime…” Amy, the ‘bigger’ girl of the group, says, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s just… Got a stupid ending, is all…” She says this all rather gently & tentatively, trying not to hurt Eric’s feelings or anger him further. Kirk, however, doesn’t particularly seem to care about that. He groans & rolls his eyes, which gets him a surly glower from Eric. 

“I’m sorry Eric, I know it’s one of you favorites, but I just DO NOT like InuYasha. He’s a spoiled brat who can’t pick between a young, actually living girl or a body made of clay who’s soul is a total bitch. & that girl? Is a highly annoying idiot. You’ve also got the generic womanizer who’s really not all that funny… & a bad guy who’s ridiculously over powerful & who terrorizes this group throughout 167 freaking episodes to not even be killed at the end! ‘Oooh, we’ll find a way to get him some day, I’m sure, don’t worry about it! As long as we’re together we’ll be ok!’ I mean, what the hell kind of pansy ass ending is that? All I’m saying is that, after investing as much time as you have to in watching the ridiculous multitude of episodes the show has, it’s ending is really goddamn disappointing so it just depreciates the value of the show as a whole.” Kirk really can have his opinions, & he generally doesn’t tend to shut up when making a point. Eric continues to glare at Kirk for awhile, seeming like he’s going to say something to start some big stupid nerd fight, & Amy sends me a pleading glance. I sigh a bit & roll my eyes. Fine, time to be the mediator again. 

“I’ll tell you what’s a stupid ass anime,” I say nonchalantly, cutting Eric off just as he opens his mouth to say something to Kirk. The two boys turn their heads suddenly to stare right at me, eyes wide in surprise as if they just noticed my presence. I resist the urge to roll my eyes again. “Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo.” The two boys stare for another moment, & then it’s like all of a sudden the tension between them just completely dissipates as they agree & continue on to discuss how utterly retarded Bo-bobo is. Amy smiles in thanks at me & I nod, taking another bite of my rubber pizza while the nerd talk continues on around me. I kind of zone out for a bit until I feel Kirk nudge me in the arm, pushing me sideways. 

“Oi!” I exclaim, pushing his hand away. “Whaddaya want, Kim?” I ask him, using the nickname I made up for him that I know he loathes. His parent’s really must hate him, naming him Kirk Ian McGill. Now he’s cursed to be Captain Kirk & Kim because of his initials. He grimaces at me & flicks one of the remaining peas on his tray at me. I flick it back at him & it lands on the linoleum tiled floors behind us. We both glance down at it for a second, then completely disregard it & look back up at each other. “What?” I ask him again. 

“Our English project, you know the one due on Monday?” I nod. “Do you want to meet at the library tomorrow to finish up the research & then head back to my house to put it all together?” I think for a moment to make sure I don’t have anything previously planned for tomorrow & nod again. Kirk nods in unison with me. “Cool.”

“I actually think the ‘rents were going to do some shopping or something tomorrow, so I’ll catch a ride with them. If not then I’ll just ride my bike.” I say, but Kirk frowns a bit & pulls out his handy-dandy-internet-connected cell & touches the screen a few times before showing it to me. 

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.” He says, as if I wouldn’t have deduced that from the little rain cloud above tomorrow’s date. “So you should probably catch that ride with your parents. If not then it’s cool, I don’t mind coming to get you. I do every other friggen day.” He says in faux annoyance. “You need to get yourself a damn car, kid.” He says teasingly, nudging me in the arm again. I roll my eyes. 

“No thank you. Cars are not worth the trouble they cause.” I say, just as the pre-bell for the next period rings. I stand & stretch as the rest of the table does & pick up my tray as we walk to place them on the conveyor belt that goes into the kitchen for the lunch ladies to wash them. 

“Later guys!” I call to Eric & Amy as they walk off to their classes, while Kirk & I head off to our English class. We talk a bit about when we’ll meet at the library & what we should do for the rest of our project, but that only lasts for a little while until we start conjuring up the idea of planning another Halo war with the Nerd Gang. Fun times we nerds can have, I tell you, fun times.


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“As usual, your personal video game collection is extremely disappointing.” Kirk says with a sigh, sounding as if he is sincerely concerned with the meager selection of video games that I own. I roll my eyes at him from where I lay on my bed, staring up at the green neon colored glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling & stretch out my legs, glad to finally be home from another day of school. &, that today is Friday & I won’t have to be going back there for two days. 

“You say that every time you come to my house, Kirk.” I say to him, & it’s true, he really does. Every. Single. Time. “& I always tell you, I don’t really play all that many video games unless it’s like a group thing. Like the Halo Wars.” I say sleepily, closing my eyes & yawning. The house is quiet, one of the good things about being an early bird high schooler. At least when you get home you have that hour or so before your younger siblings get home. Of course, that will change next year when Lill enters high school herself… Dear god, help us all. 

“I know, but still, you know… You could buy at least one good game…” Kirk mumbles, still going on about the video games as he rummages through my stock of them for the umpteenth time trying to find one he feels is suitable to play. I groan & sit up in my bed, slumping forward to place my elbow on the footboard & hold my chin in my hand. 

“We have this exact same conversation every Friday, Kirk. We could always go to your house, you know.” I say, staring straight at him. He glowers at me. This goes on for a minute before I start laughing & shake my head & Kirk stands to kick the end of my bed. “It would be funny-”

“We are NOT going to my house on a Friday, EVER.” Kirk declares rather vehemently, cutting me off. I hold my hands up, palms forward, in the ‘chill out, I surrender’ sort of way. Kirk just glares at the wall, brows furrowed. “It’s just so fucking weird, man. God, my parents are such fucking freaks.” 

“Uh-hum,” I laugh, trying to cover it up with a cough. “You’re not really all that one to speak, Kim old buddy.” I say, patting Kirk on the back. He just continues to grimace. “Look, I know your parents are Trekkies. We all know that, Kirk. It’s kind of hard to not know, what with your name & all…” Kirk’s glower deepens. “Look, my point is, it’s not your fault that your parents are weirdoes who dress up as Star Trek people & vulcans & speak in klingon & whatnot…” Kirk turns to me now, face dead serious. 

“Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m bringing anyone in the general vicinity of my house when they’re doing all of this with all of their other weirdo freaking friends.” I shake my head for him & pat him again. “I mean Jesus, they won’t even freaking speak to me in English when they’re parading around all ‘live long & prosper’ & shit.” He holds up his hand in the vulcan greeting, doing his best Spok impersonation. I press my lips together to keep from grinning.

“S’okay buddy, s’okay.” I pat him once more. “But then, if that’s the continued case, then would it hurt you to bring your own goddamned video games with you when you come to my house?” I ask him, & he turns to stare at me. & then we laugh. Kirk pushes my shoulder & I kick him away from the bed. “I’m just sayin’ man, I’m just sayin’!” I guffaw & he rolls his eyes at me. 

“Fine, I’ll try to keep that in mind from now on.” He agrees, going to sit at my desk chair. He opens up my laptop & gets online, looking so completely casual just doing whatever he pleases with my personal belongings that it makes me grin & shake my head. Of course, I can’t say anything. I do the same kind of things when I’m at his house. Seeing as we’ve known each other for about twelve years & have gone back & forth from each others houses nearly on a daily basis, this was bound to happen. 

With a defeated sigh, I roll over on my bed & reach down to grab my book bag from the floor & haul it up onto the mattress with me. It’s just my little theory, but I think that in retaliation to my little domination battle with Mr. Finch today, he assigned the class a seemingly excessive amount of homework to accomplish over the weekend. Stupid old coot. & by old coot I mean perfectly normal looking middle aged man. Regardless, I take the remaining forty five minutes or so of peace & quiet before the rest of the family starts arriving home to start on my homework. Mother will be so proud of me.

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Door slam. Stomping up the stairs, through the hall. Another door slam. Something thrown against the floor & dull thudding. A lull of silence, & then… & then the music. The blaring music of emo boys who I swear to god sound like they have the voices of gay guys screaming about how their hearts are black & their souls are lonely & their tears are running down like razorblades. I sigh. Well, so much for homework. 

Sitting up, I run a hand through my long crimson hair & pull it up off of my neck with the hair thingy around my wrist & glance at my desk to see that Kirk is still hunched over my laptop. Itching idly at my forehead I stand & walk over to him to see some school books spread about him, a notebook on his lap with notes scrawled all over the pages, & his fingers typing furiously in an open document. I have no idea how he can continue to work with this music blasting through the air. I give him a pat on the shoulder & wait for him to glance up at me before gesturing in a nod in the direction the noise is coming from. He nods without needing any more explanation than that & gets back to work. 

Walking to my bedroom door & out into the hallway, the music gets significantly louder. Which amazes me. I sigh & rub my hand against the back of my neck as I walk to the end of the hallway & bang on the door. Nothing happens. I bang again, harder. Finally the door is whipped open & a furious looking Lilliana stares up at me. Without waiting for permission, I push past her straight to her stereo to turn it down to where it’s simply background noise. 

“Aubrey, what the hell?!” She screeches, lurching forward to try & turn the crap right the hell back up. I easily fend her off which just continues to piss her off. “Get the fuck out of my room, goddamnit! Get out!!” 

“Hey!” I shout back at her sternly, getting her attention. She stands still & crosses her arms, staring at me silently. “Watch your goddamned mouth, you hear?” I tell her with a furrowed brow, she simply continues to stare daggers at me. “Look, just keep your freaking emo ass music down, would you?” I ask, & she pushes the hand away from her shoulder that I’d been using to keep her back from the stereo. 

“Why in the hell should I listen to you, huh?! You aren’t my mother! You aren’t even my real sister! So shut the hell up, would you!?” Ouch. Well. That stung a little. I glare right back at her, clenching the hand she pushed away into a fist & sighing. 

“Yeah, no shit I’m not your whole sister, but that has absolutely nothing to do with this, dip shit. Common fucking courtesy, get it? Kirk & I are trying to do our freaking homework & I for one can’t concentrate with that shit whining in my eardrums.” Her jaw clenches, hands tightening around her arms. I wave her off before she can retort. “Look, I know you’re going through the teenage hormone “I’m going to be possessed by the devil for the next five or so years” stint at the moment, but yo, ever heard of headphones?” To emphasize the point, I pick up a pair of headphones from Lilliana’s desk & hold them out to her. She grabs them, pushes past me to the stereo to plug them in & is then as good as dead to the world. Which is completely fine by me. 

Sighing for the millionth time that day, I walk out of my little demonsister’s room, closing the door behind me, & make my way back to my own room where Kirk is still situated at my desk. I flop down on my bed, belly first, & bury my head into my pillow. The elongated groan I release from my lungs deflating my entire body, but the feathers trapped around my head muffle the sound in their softness. 

“So,” I hear Kirk say. “Seems Lilliana is home.” I laugh once against the pillow & turn myself over onto my back, once again staring up at my little glow-in-the-dark stars. 

“Nooo," I say, dragging out the word. "What made you think that?” I ask sarcastically, a grin on my lips. 

“Oh, I can just tell these things.” He says nonchalantly. I hear him stand & head over to the bed, so I sit up to look at him. He stops in front of me & stretches before patting his stomach. “Welp, I’m hungry. Shall we go get some after school chow?” Standing, I nod & poke a finger to his pudgy belly to which he sticks his tongue out at me. I roll my eyes. 

“Sure, let’s go get some grub.”

Down the stairs I can see good old little Finn working away studiously in the, uh, study… But leave him be as Kirk & I head to the kitchen. It won’t be another half hour or so before mom gets home, & by that time she’ll be more intent on starting dinner than fixing some snacks for us, so I just pop some pizza rolls into the microwave.

By the time mom gets home, Kirk & I are lounging about on the sectional couch in the living room (the actual one with TVs & stuff, not the ‘sitting room’ one) just off of the kitchen. Stupid cartoons that are meant for children when in all reality mostly stoners watch them are playing on the television, & a plethora of junk food is spread around us. We devoured several boxes of the pizza rolls, a box of hot pockets, finished off a bag of sun chips & had just started on another bag of smart food popcorn when we heard her come in. 

Upon seeing the sight, mom huffs a sigh at us, crossing her arms & shaking her head at us in disapproval. Kirk smiles shyly at her & waves. I pick a popcorn shell from between my teeth. 

“You two are despicable. Filling yourselves up with that junk before I can even get home to make dinner.” She tsks at us, turning to the kitchen to get to work on making that very dinner she was speaking of. “You’re lucky we’re going grocery shopping tomorrow anyway, you two seem like you ransacked the entire pantry…” She goes on for a few more minutes like that as she starts pulling things out of the cupboards, setting things on counters, turning on the stove, grabbing various vegetables from the fridge to chop. After a little bit, I stand & grab up some of the trash Kirk & I created, leaving him to get the rest, & stuff it all in the trash can before going to lean over the island as mom continues to cook. 

“Sorry ma, you know how it is with teenagers & our ravenous growing appetites.” I say in way of apologizing. Kirk nods at my side. 

“Yes, yes. But that sort of junk food binge is supposed to be reserved for teenage boys, like Finn.” She says as she pours some pasta into a pan of boiling water.

“First of all, mom, Finn isn’t a teenager just quite yet.” I verify, to which she glances at me with a ‘You know what I mean, young lady’ kind of look. “& second of all, out of all of us in this household, Finn is the most healthy eater. I doubt he’ll ever turn to hot pockets in times of hunger. If anything he’ll binge eat on carrots & celery or something.”

“To which he should. To which all of you should.” Mom says, though I can see the slightest upturn at the corner of her lips. It’s ridiculous, Finn’s healthiness. He’s like the complete opposite of what a boy his age these days usually is. No soda, thanks, he’ll take water. Fast food, never, he’ll prefer a salad. Video games about shooting & killing? No way, he’ll take a book. Sit in front of the television all day? Heck no, he’ll go out & play outside with his friends all day instead. Like kids should be doing, & used to do before this age of technology & convenience spoiled us all & made us all lazy & fat.

Speaking of the devil, finally smelling mom’s cooking, Finn emerges from the study & practically skips into the kitchen, a smile plastered on his face as usual. I grab him to my side for the usual half hug & noogie while he laughs & pushes away from me. I grin at him as he tries to smooth out his now messy hair. 

“Have a good day at school, Finny?” I ask him as I lean back up against the island & he shrugs. 

“Yeah, it was alright.” He says mildly before turning to mom. “Can I help you with dinner, ma?” God, perfect, hello. Is it even possible for such an awesome kid like Finn to exist? Mom turns to him with a smile. 

“Yes, thank you dear.” She leaves him with the vegetables to chop while she goes on to start cooking some chicken breasts. After laying several of them down on the frying pan she turns to Kirk. “Will you be staying for dinner tonight, Kirk?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Archwood, if that’s alright with you, of course.” He says, nervous as always around my mother. I have no idea why. My mother nods & turns back to her cooking. 

“As I thought.” She says, placing a sixth chicken breast onto the pan. I chuckle & nudge Kirk in the side. 

“Set the table.” I tell him, & he does. I go help Finn with the veggies & by the time Greg finally gets home from work, dinner is ready to be served. 

Shoes & jacket off, tie loosened, Greg walks into the kitchen with a hand over his belly. “Mm, that smells delicious, Ida dear.” He says appreciatively, walking over to Mom to give her a hug & a kiss. I grab the water pitcher from the fridge & set it onto the table. 

“Hey Greg,” I say to him at the same time Finn happily chimes “Hey dad!”. Greg smiles at us both & pats us on our shoulders in his standard greeting. 

“Hey kids, hope you had good days.” He says as he makes his way to his spot at the table, sitting down with a sigh of exhaustion &, I would assume, satisfaction that the day was over. We all take our spots as well, & mom calls up the stairs to Lill that dinner is ready & she trudges down the steps into the kitchen to take the last spot at the table before the first course of salad is served & we all start eating.

Everything is nice for awhile, the conversation consisting mostly of how everyone’s days went & the usual family dinner table banter. But, by the end of the main course tension starts to grow thanks to, none other than, Little Miss Priss. 

“It’s not my fault, mom!” She shouts, practically stabbing one of the few remaining pieces of chicken on her plate as if it were still alive & she sincerely intended on killing it. “I had the paper, & I finished it! You know I did, I was working on it last night, you saw me!” She continues to argue. “I just forgot it in my locker! But stupid Ms. Evans wouldn’t let me go out & get it!” 

“Yes honey, I understand that.” Mom says in a mom tone. “But that doesn’t make it alright for you to yell at her. & it doesn’t make it alright for you to yell here, either. So keep your voice down.” She says, looking pointedly at Lilliana. “Honey, I know teaches can be frustrating sometimes-” 

“Completely unfair.” Lilliana grumbles, stabbing another thankfully dead piece of chicken. 

“But you’ve got to learn to better handle these sorts of situations. You’ve already gotten yourself in similar trouble twice this month. It’s no surprise you got in school suspension this time.” Mom continues. 

“& we’ll discuss a fitting punishment for that offense later, young lady.” Greg says firmly from the head of the table. Lilliana huffs at this, looking as if she’s about to start yelling some more, but mom cuts her off. 

“We’re not telling you to not fight back at all if a teacher is being completely unfair, as you say, Lilly. We’re just saying that you need to learn how & when to fight appropriately. Fight isn’t even really a good word to use, honestly…” Mom sighs, but waves it off & continues. “You’ve got to keep levelheaded, Lilly. & stay respectful even when the teacher isn’t necessarily acting as if they deserve it. You’ve always got to be the bigger person, understand? If you don’t do or say anything that you can’t fairly get punished for, then there won’t be anything for you to be punished for. But if you keep up with these hissy fits, then I wouldn’t be surprised if you got a real detention by the end of next week!” 

By the time mom is finished making her point to Lill, Kirk, Greg & I have already started clearing the table & Greg is starting on the dishes. Kirk & I stand back by the fridge, the farthest point from table, to continue watching the spectacle. I can tell Kirk just feels awkward, but I just can never walk away from one of these arguments. It’s like watching a bad car wreck. 

“Well maybe those ‘hissy fits’ aren’t my fault either, mother! Ever think of that?!” Lilliana demands, slamming her fork down. “Apparently I’m just some dip shit possessed by the devil, perhaps I can’t control my outbreaks!” Lilly shouts, & I immediately tense. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Kirk glances nervously at me, but I can’t go anywhere now. I’m caught. It won’t matter if I dash out of the room now, so I might as well stay here & keep this whole schpeal to one part of the house. 

Mom quiets down as she hears that last bit from Lill, & Greg pauses at the sink. Finn stands awkwardly next to his father, surely wishing, much like me now, that he had escaped from this blowup a long time ago. I simply sigh & close my eyes, leaning my head back to rest on the fridge behind me, listening to it hum while I wait for it. For me to be dragged into this mess too. 

“Who ever told you that’s what you were, Lilliana?” Mom says sternly, seriously, frighteningly quietly. 

“Aubrey told me that’s what I was when I got home from school today.” Lilly says, arms crossed. My jaw clenches. Annoying little wench… What, did Finn take all the perfect in their siblinghood & leave her with all the shittyness or something? 

The room is silent. I don’t have to open my eyes to know that everyone’s looking at me. I sigh deeply & rub my fingers against my eyelids before walking to the island, walking into the fray, to speak. “That’s highly taken out of context-” I begin to say, but mom cuts me off before I can continue. 

“Did you call your sister that or did you not, Aubrianna?” She asks sharply, staring at me. I might be a master at beating teachers when it comes to stares of doom, but sadly, with my mother, I never can. I look away & cross my arms in some form of protection from her gaze. 

“Yeah, I did.” I say under my breath. 

“Aubrey!” Mom says in shock, standing from the table. 

“Look, like I said, that was totally taken out of context!” I say, trying to defend myself. 

“Yeah, Ms. Archwood, Bri was just trying to get Lill to turn down her music so we could do our homework…” I hear Kirk say from behind me & very nearly visibly cringe. Idiot, idiot! 'What the hell are you thinking?!', I want to shout at him. But I keep my lips shut. Mom turns on him, almost surprised to see he was even still there, before putting on a calm, albeit cold & distant exterior.

“Kirk, dear, don’t you think it’s about time you got home?” She says, although worded & voiced as a question it was much more of a command than anything else. You could just hear it in her tone & see it in her posture that what she really meant was ‘gtfo, now’. I glare at her. 

“Mom! Jesus, don’t be so rude!” I shout at her, to which I’m sure she was about to retort with something about how could I call her rude when I had called my sister a dip shit demon, blah blah blah, but Kirk cuts everyone off. 

“No, no, no. It’s alright Bri. I’ll just get my things from your room & head home.” He says, backing out of the kitchen. I send another glare at mom before going to follow him. So much for settling this dispute quickly… 

Up in my room, I help Kirk gather his things. Still fuming about what I’ll have to no doubtedly face again as soon as he leaves the house.
 
“Sorry ’bout this, Kim.” I tell him as he slings the strap to his backpack over his shoulder. He shrugs. 

“Nah, it’s alright.” He says, though I know whenever he gets caught up in these sorts of familial disputes it always freaks him out a bit. Being an only child & all, he’s not used to it. I pat him on the shoulder as we walk outside, he turns to me as he walks towards his car in the darkening evening light. “So, we still meeting at the library tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” I sigh, dismissing him. “I can’t believe I’m waking up early on a Saturday to go hang out at the library with you.” I say & he grins
. 
“Hey, don’t blame me.” He says. “Blame your finicky bad ass attitude. If it encompassed the part of your brain that gave a shit about homework then you wouldn’t be bothering to wake up on a weekend morning to come hang out at the library with me.”

“I might be a bad ass, but I’m a bad ass who cares about her grades, alright?” I call after him as he gets into his car, he flicks me off with a grin as he drives away & I flick him off back congenially. & then I sigh, knowing full well what I’m about to head into & wanting to just walk the few blocks from here to Kirk’s house but knowing that I can’t, before turning back to the door & walking inside. The door clicks closed behind me, & with it opens the flood gates for a lovely family argument that lasts for at least an hour or so more.

__________________


& it ends up like this:

Basically, mom is pissed at both Lilliana & I. Lilly hates everyone as usual. Greg took my side on the issue of not blaring music around the house when people are trying to do homework (or ever, really), but with a narrow eyed glare from mom, continued on to tell me that my choice of words to my younger sister were something I should not have ever said. Lill is still in trouble for getting in school suspension & so her curfew for the weekend was raised to only 6 o’clock, to which she bitched & moaned about because she’d had plans, blah blah blah, but mom wasn’t buying it. I was again scorned for calling Lilly a dip shit & a demon & was told I need to learn to watch my language, that I needed to apologize to Lill (which I did, & which mom made her accept), & that my curfew was, as well, raised to only 6 o’clock for the weekend. Suckish, but not that big of a deal to me. Which, apparently pissed Lilly off more because she didn’t think I was suffering enough because I wasn’t as obviously distressed at this minor punishment as she was which made her think I needed to be punished more. To which I rolled my eyes & to which mom told her to shut her mouth, young lady, & just get to bed. & so she did. & then I did as well. Finn had already escaped to his room long before that &, before hitting the sack, I made a detour there to talk to him. He was sitting on his bed reading & looked up at me when I peaked in through his door after knocking lightly. 

“Hey kid,” I said softly to him. 

“Hey Bri.” He said just as softly. I took that as a welcome to come in, so I stepped into his room & gently closed the door behind me. I walked up to his bed & sat down on the edge of the mattress next to him. “Whatcha reading?” 

“Just something for school…” He said, looking from me to the pages of the book he was still holding. I nodded slowly. 

“So… Some commotion tonight, huh?” That was an understatement. Finn shrugged, trying to seem as if he didn’t care all that much, but I could tell he was pretty distressed from it. He always got upset when these things happened. It was just too much anger & yelling for his sensitive & happy-go-lucky self to handle. I placed a hand on his shoulder & squeezed gently, smiling down at him.

“Hey, it’s alright, kid. No worries, okay? You’ve got two teenage sisters, we’re bound to cross paths every now & then, but it all works out in the end, doesn’t it? Lill just wouldn’t be Lill if she wasn’t constantly causing a ruckus, I just wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t always such a smartass, & you just wouldn’t be you if you weren’t the sweetheart that you were. Right?” He laughs a little & I can see him nod. I pat his shoulder again & stand. “Good, good.” 

I’m about to make my way back to my room, but Finn’s voice stops me. “Hey Bri,” He says, & I turn back to face him, brow raised in question. He bites his lip, starting down at his book. “You guys… You guys still all love each other, right?” I can hear a desperation in his voice & it surprises me. He continues before I can recover. “It’s just that.. You all fight so much, always yelling at each other… It just seems like you hate each other so much…” The hurt in his voice feels like someone’s squeezing at my heart & I immediately go over to Finn & wrap my arms around him. 

“Oh, Finny. Silly boy.” I say to him. “Of course we love each other. We’re family, we have to love each other. Now, like is a whole different story. I’m not obligated to like Lilly until she’s become a civilized human being again.” I can hear Finn chuckle & I let him go from my embrace. 

“How long will that take, do you think?” He asks, finally smiling again. It makes me smile back. 

“I have no idea, buddy, I have no idea.” I muss with his hair & tell him goodnight before backing out of his bedroom & head back into my own. I just want to flop down onto the mattress & bury myself under the covers & into sleep, but I force myself to get into my pj’s & brush my teeth & hair before setting my alarm clock (which should be a crime on the weekend) so I’ll wake up on time tomorrow & crawling into bed. As one last thought, though, before I fall asleep, I grab my phone & send a text to Kirk. 

“Sorry again about my mom being a bitch to you tonight & that you got caught in the middle of Lill’s wrath.”

A minute later I get a reply.      

“No prob, like I said. See you tomorrow.” 

& with that, I curled up into my blankets & let sleep take me away into dream world.