Let's Burn Our Dreams Into the Skyline
Essays.
“Pete, do not be surprised if you wake up dead tomorrow,” I mumbled, burying my face into his sheets. They were nice and clean for once. Rule 7 of the Wentz household; sheets will only be washed when you throw up all over them. The smell of clean sheets is definitely my fetish. Mmm. Fabric softener.
“Please do explain how I can wake up if I am dead?” He asked, changing the channel.
I simply glared, “ I was watching that.”
“Deal with it. Go watch TV somewhere else.”
“No, I’d rather be with my favorite brother.”
“… I’m your only brother, Linnea.”
“Which is why you should go get me a water bottle and some type of drug that will put me to sleep.”
Pete was about halfway down the hallway before he realized what was going on. I heard him twist the creaky faucet of our bathroom we shared. Word to the wise, I wouldn’t suggest going in there. I really don’t think anyone’s cleaned that shit since we moved here like 14 years ago. After about the 5th time mom asked us to clean it and we ignored her demands, she just kinda gave up.
“Spank you,” I smiled as he handed me two pills and a glass. I finished off the water and attempted to put the glass on the dresser on the complete opposite side of the room without moving… and failed. Pete didn’t seem to care, he was asleep and that’s pretty much all I remember before I dead to the world.
xxx
“Wake up!” Someone yanked the covers off of my head. The curtains were open; light flooded the room.
I groaned. Pete groaned. Mom sighed.
“Sleep,” I muttered into the mattress, only I’m pretty sure everyone else perceived it as “ssduibjkf?”
“Come on, up and atom,” Mom was far too chipper in the morning, “You’ve been home from school for a week, and you stayed home yesterday too.”
“No, my stomach hurts. I’m still sick. Leave me alone,” Pete growled.
Mom tapped her foot impatiently, honestly expecting us to wake up and be … conscience. Shudder.
“It’s already 6:45. Your bus comes at 7. You two better hurry the hell up,” She barked.
Pete hesitated, but finally sat up and I followed suit. Everything went black for a second, and then returned to normal.
Mom smiled, pleased that she had managed to force her sick children out of bed.
“Can you make coffee?” Pete asked her before she shut the door.
“No.”
I threw the glass from last night at the door and it broke into a zillion pieces that were scattered all over the carpet.
“Anger management much?” Pete spat.
“Oh, you’re really one to talk,” I cackled, pushing him aside and going to get dressed.
I managed to make myself look halfway decent in a little under 5 minutes. I grabbed a poptart and tossed the 2nd one at Pete. It was freezing out and I knew I should’ve grabbed a jacket besides my worn purple hoodie, but I figured there was no point as Pete wasn’t wearing one and if he caught a cold, I’d get it from him anyway. You love my way of thinking; don’t deny it.
xxx
“Do not piss me off,” Max warned us as we all met up in front of the school, “I will flip a bitch on you.”
“You seem to like that saying,” Gabe noted, smiling cheekily.
School had never passed so dully before. My head was throbbing and I felt like bashing my head through the window, but that would probably just make everything worse, so I stayed in my seat like a good little girl.
“LUNCH!” Ryland screamed, skipping down the hallway. I pretended not to know him.
“Not so fast,” Mrs. DeGrande demanded, grabbing him by the arm, “You all have to make up yesterdays writing assignment in the library.”
“On?” Stepha asked.
“Any topic you choose. It must be handed to me by the end of the period, or you will get a 0 as a test grade. Understand?”
We all nodded, though I’m sure 50% of us did not understand. And I really don’t think sending our crew to the library was the best of ideas. Loud people + quiet library = recipe for pandemonium.
“Pete,” Gabe began as we made our way to the library, “I dare you to write your essay on why men give you boners.”
Oh god…
“Then I dare you to write yours on why pussy tastes like cantaloupe!”
“… Why cantaloupe?” Stump asked, reading all of our minds.
“I dunno, it was the first thing that came to mind. And I dare you to write yours on rape.”
“Fine,” Stump declared, “ Then I dare Max to write hers on prostitution.”
“Then I dare Linnea to write hers on incest,” Max stated bluntly, filing her nails.
“Okay,” I said, thinking of a suitable subject, “Then I dare Alex to write his on masturbation.”
Alex sighed, “Great. Then I dare Steph to write about drug usage.”
“Then I dare Ryland to do his on asexuality.” Steph announced, smiling sweetly at Ryland.
“Okay, fine. You do realize that Mrs. DeGrande will throw a shit fit when we hand our essays in, right?”
We all thought for a second. “Yeah.”
“Please do explain how I can wake up if I am dead?” He asked, changing the channel.
I simply glared, “ I was watching that.”
“Deal with it. Go watch TV somewhere else.”
“No, I’d rather be with my favorite brother.”
“… I’m your only brother, Linnea.”
“Which is why you should go get me a water bottle and some type of drug that will put me to sleep.”
Pete was about halfway down the hallway before he realized what was going on. I heard him twist the creaky faucet of our bathroom we shared. Word to the wise, I wouldn’t suggest going in there. I really don’t think anyone’s cleaned that shit since we moved here like 14 years ago. After about the 5th time mom asked us to clean it and we ignored her demands, she just kinda gave up.
“Spank you,” I smiled as he handed me two pills and a glass. I finished off the water and attempted to put the glass on the dresser on the complete opposite side of the room without moving… and failed. Pete didn’t seem to care, he was asleep and that’s pretty much all I remember before I dead to the world.
xxx
“Wake up!” Someone yanked the covers off of my head. The curtains were open; light flooded the room.
I groaned. Pete groaned. Mom sighed.
“Sleep,” I muttered into the mattress, only I’m pretty sure everyone else perceived it as “ssduibjkf?”
“Come on, up and atom,” Mom was far too chipper in the morning, “You’ve been home from school for a week, and you stayed home yesterday too.”
“No, my stomach hurts. I’m still sick. Leave me alone,” Pete growled.
Mom tapped her foot impatiently, honestly expecting us to wake up and be … conscience. Shudder.
“It’s already 6:45. Your bus comes at 7. You two better hurry the hell up,” She barked.
Pete hesitated, but finally sat up and I followed suit. Everything went black for a second, and then returned to normal.
Mom smiled, pleased that she had managed to force her sick children out of bed.
“Can you make coffee?” Pete asked her before she shut the door.
“No.”
I threw the glass from last night at the door and it broke into a zillion pieces that were scattered all over the carpet.
“Anger management much?” Pete spat.
“Oh, you’re really one to talk,” I cackled, pushing him aside and going to get dressed.
I managed to make myself look halfway decent in a little under 5 minutes. I grabbed a poptart and tossed the 2nd one at Pete. It was freezing out and I knew I should’ve grabbed a jacket besides my worn purple hoodie, but I figured there was no point as Pete wasn’t wearing one and if he caught a cold, I’d get it from him anyway. You love my way of thinking; don’t deny it.
xxx
“Do not piss me off,” Max warned us as we all met up in front of the school, “I will flip a bitch on you.”
“You seem to like that saying,” Gabe noted, smiling cheekily.
School had never passed so dully before. My head was throbbing and I felt like bashing my head through the window, but that would probably just make everything worse, so I stayed in my seat like a good little girl.
“LUNCH!” Ryland screamed, skipping down the hallway. I pretended not to know him.
“Not so fast,” Mrs. DeGrande demanded, grabbing him by the arm, “You all have to make up yesterdays writing assignment in the library.”
“On?” Stepha asked.
“Any topic you choose. It must be handed to me by the end of the period, or you will get a 0 as a test grade. Understand?”
We all nodded, though I’m sure 50% of us did not understand. And I really don’t think sending our crew to the library was the best of ideas. Loud people + quiet library = recipe for pandemonium.
“Pete,” Gabe began as we made our way to the library, “I dare you to write your essay on why men give you boners.”
Oh god…
“Then I dare you to write yours on why pussy tastes like cantaloupe!”
“… Why cantaloupe?” Stump asked, reading all of our minds.
“I dunno, it was the first thing that came to mind. And I dare you to write yours on rape.”
“Fine,” Stump declared, “ Then I dare Max to write hers on prostitution.”
“Then I dare Linnea to write hers on incest,” Max stated bluntly, filing her nails.
“Okay,” I said, thinking of a suitable subject, “Then I dare Alex to write his on masturbation.”
Alex sighed, “Great. Then I dare Steph to write about drug usage.”
“Then I dare Ryland to do his on asexuality.” Steph announced, smiling sweetly at Ryland.
“Okay, fine. You do realize that Mrs. DeGrande will throw a shit fit when we hand our essays in, right?”
We all thought for a second. “Yeah.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Lots of time elapses, eep.All credit for Ryland's asexuality goes to Polly xD