Melting The Ice

I couldn’t break it to Logan. He looked so heartbroken as we watched From Hell. In my head, Jack the Ripper was our parents, tearing up his childhood. In Logan’s head, he must have just been a bad guy that was way too bloodthirsty for him to watch without looking away.

The movie ended around three in the morning. I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. However, Logan, who had slept through the “scary” parts, insisted that we needed to pack. If he wasn’t my brother, I would have pushed him into a closet and locked the door. I wasn’t very nice when I woke up. I didn’t like to be sleep deprived. Plus, today I had to go to work to give that kid the tattoo I promised.

“Pack the sweater mom knitted for us a few years ago,” Logan called from his bedroom.

I scoffed and lifted the leather couch to where my clothes were stacked. The sweater was stuffed in a corner, not touched in years. Mother had attempted to knit a sweater even though she couldn’t. It was…laughable. I had such a laugh when I got it. Logan thought it was sweet. That idiot. Everything was sweet for him.

“Don’t you scoff at me,” Logan said, popping his head around the curtain. “You will bring it to wear on Christmas day. Or I will become Jack the Ripper and cut out your organs”

I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at the sweater. “Sure.” I didn’t put it in. Instead, I hid it under a few PUNK, KERRANG, and EDGE magazines. Logan never touched them because he suspected that they were some sort of porn magazines. They didn’t even look like it! Poor paranoid Logan.

Pulling out a large suitcase, I stuffed in a few t-shirts with different bands on them : Black Veil Brides, Motionless In White, Cute Is What We Aim For, HIM, VAMPS , LONDON, Motley Crue, etc. I put my Xbox 360 and PS3 in the middle, and threw in a bunch of jeans to cover them. Logan wouldn’t let me take my games if he realized I had them. He was big on “family time”.

Speaking of games…I shoved in Call Of Duty: Black Ops, Final Fantasy, Devil May Cry, Halo, and Final Fantasy. If I took all of them, the bag would be too heavy and Logan would get suspicious. Then I’d have to leave my goodies at home.

“Are you ready,” Logan asked, coming into the room with his bag on his shoulders.

I nodded my head and fixed the couch. “Yes. I am ready. To go to sleep!” I grabbed my blanket and flopped down on the couch, too tired to even turn off the lights.

Logan grabbed my blanket and pulled it away from me. “We are leaving! “

“Leaving?! Are you fucking crazy? It’s…seven…in the morning….what…how the hell is it…man! Fuck! I need to go to work!”

Logan waved my cell phone in the air. “I already called Percy and Alec. They said it was fine. As long as you train the new kid that applied when you come back.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “Noooo….” I didn’t want to train someone! I mean, how do you train a tattoo artist!? Poke needles into a person’s skin to cause pain and you’re done. Hoorah! Hoorah! Nothing difficult about that.

Logan grabbed my arm and pulled me off of the couch. “Come on, Luke! Let’s go! You can sleep in the car. I’ll drive!”

At the words ‘I’ll drive’, my body kicked into gear. No way no how. No one was driving my lovely 1974 Chevrolet Corvette except me. That was one of my rules. When Logan gets his car, then he can drive it. Until then, My car, ONLY I drive.

Logan eyes me wearily. “Just don’t crash us into a tree… or a river.”

I waved my hand in dismissal. “Trust me, I’ve got this.”

I think.