Geek of the Year

Hollow’s Eve has been leering at the world as the end of October came near.

However, while everyone in my family was being frantic for the Trent’s Annual Halloween Party, I was being the typical lazy otaku watching my returning love of my life, Vampire Knight Guilty on Crunchy Roll.

I just could not resist watching this addictive anime. Just like how a little kid cannot leave the cookie jar alone; once he takes a bite of the chocolate cookie of wonder, the child would not stop getting some more.

I was basking in the moment as Kaname started, “Yuk---“

“Scott, can you come down for a minute?” Mom asked. I turned to find my mom standing by the doorway and staring at the computer screen.

“Mom?” I asked nervously.

“Shh, what cartoon is this now?” She asked while her eyes were staring at the screen.

“Um, it’s Vampire Knight Guilty. You know, vampires, violence, drama, etc.,” I responded.

“Oh,” she replied. Then she snapped back into reality. “Oh! Scott, I need you to help with the party since it is a Trent celebration. And by the way, can you show this cartoon to the party?”

“Eh?”

My mom wants Vampire Knight to the party. This is the first time, in my ten years of life, that my mom wants anime into a social event! Is this so kind of weird trick? Nah, my mom wouldn’t do that to me. She is probably into it because Vampires are in it, and that Twilight is not out on DVD. To begin with, the movie is not out in theaters yet.

I agreed and put the love of my life (so far) on hold to help with the party plans.

***

“Can you put the gravestone by the door? Yes, right there. No, not there. Yes there; perfect! See Scott, isn’t helping out with your family fun?” Mom asked.

Yup, just dandy, I thought. While I was taking my time setting gravestones, Lorelei was preheating the Pillsbury Halloween cookies or was trying to, and Dad was putting up black and orange balloons.

Oh, and Mom? She was—and still is---commanding me to put random decorations at certain places.

“Yeah, it is,” I answered.

I sighed as I feel like it was my duty, as the one to sniff for danger, to check on Lorelei and the so-called cookies. Since I was little, I always have an extra sense that looks out for danger, or has the feeling of premonition.

For instance, when I was six, I found Lorelei (age seven at the time) trying to get cookies from the cookie jar on top of the pantry. I had no idea how she managed to get up there with a small chair, but she did. Anyways, once she got her prizes, she about to mount off the shelf until I screamed for our parents, since I had a bad omen resulting Lorelei to break her neck and die like O’Hara’s daughter in Gone With the Wind.

Because of that scream of mine, Mom and Dad took my sister off the shelf before anything went off, and my sister did not die, or was severely injured. Silently, I was thankful for that.

In Reality’s realm, the cookies weren’t burnt like I thought, but were hard and dark enough that I couldn’t see the smiling pumpkins on them.

“Lorelei, what were doing to destroy the cookies’ happiness?” I asked as I looked over to said person.

The look I saw on my sister’s face gave me the ultimate alert: “Run Away! A Female In Tears!” It was one of the alerts that I, or any man for that matter, have no control over. Even if I am her (younger) brother, and should-be protector of Lorelei from males, I cannot help her. I just cannot.

Ah man, she is crying a river with a random person in a canoe.

I cannot help her.

Lorelei’s hair turned into a Troll Doll fashion statement.

Maybe I should…not help.

Her face has turned red.

I cannot…help.

Her head is in her hands.

Sorry, no can do.

Lorelei’s mouth has opened.

Please do not try to---

“Wah! I’m so horrible! I didn’t mean to!”

---scream.

Lorelei kept crying her eyes out in a way that even I can’t ignore. Therefore, as a brother and an introvert, it would be my first challenge to comfort my older sister, I would have to be an extrovert.

“Are you alright, Lorelei?” I asked as I slowly crept up to her as if I was Shaggy in a creepy castle. Sadly, she hadn’t responded yet, which started to freak me out with all the silence of the kitchen and the smell of burnt, supposed to-be happy cookies.

Once I got close to her, all I could see was her pink, distraught face covered with tears. While I was about to ask her the same question again, she sniffled and asked me the one question that I’m not sure I couldn’t even answer in my sixteen years of life:

“Scott,” she sniffled again, “what would you do i-if…if Ophelia true-truly doesn’t l-love you?”

Being a novice at those types of questions, all I could do was blink.