A Glimmer of Light in the Void: Chapter 1
The loud squeal of the alarm clock jolted me awake from my drug induced slumber. The noise forcing me to immediately groan like a starving zombie while attempting to block the BEEPBEEPBEEP noise with wall of pillows and blankets. When that didn't work my hand did a drunken fumble for the thing before it finally managed to grab it and toss it toward a nearby wall...but my atrophied and drug weakened muscles only managed to get it only 1/4 of the way there. On the bright side the damned thing had managed to fall on the snooze button, thus silencing it for another 10 minutes.
I was smiling, already 99% unconscious before I even heard the thud that silenced my tormentor. The only good thing about being heavily medicated all the time is you almost always have absolutely no trouble falling asleep. Those old cartoons where the characters become unconscious after being hit with a mallet is a very accurate comparison.
Too bad the sleep is empty.
I say empty because ever since the first pill of the doctor's prescribed medication that has been basically keeping me alive for the past 10 years: I've had literally had no dreams since. True there isn't a such thing as a dreamless sleep. Thanks to the research that I've done in the past, I'm aware that dreamless sleep just means that you don't remember the dreams that you had during the night. Sadly the only dreams that I can remember are the ones that normal people have when fighting off a fever. You know the ones I'm talking about right? The ones that make kaleidoscopes look dull and bland while shapes look as about solid as Frosty the Snowman when the sun chases away Jack Frost for a few months. Yeah I'm talking about those dreams; only my fever is permanent.
Most doctors say it's just a bad reaction to the meds that should go away with time. Others say that it's just all in my head and I'm the only one that is stopping myself from dreaming. The rest believe that it's a message from my subconscious saying that it doesn't want to dream because I'm secretly depressed. All those doctors all recommend the exact same solution. You can probably guess the answer if you hadn't lived under a rock your whole life.
Throw drugs at it until the problem goes away: every doctor's philosophy.
Which is counterproductive when you think about it, considering all the side effects the drugs cause while trying to get rid of a few symptoms; that's if you're lucky. There is also dependency to consider as well as a weakened immune system. When I ponder about this issue: I just want to dump the bags of medication down the toilet and be done with it...except that I don't because I'm so reliant on them and how expressive each pill is. I would probably be dead in just a day or two without them.
It's to that special point where that I'm pretty sure if my disease just suddenly died; my body would recreate it in order to acquire its daily fix since I've been on the pills so long.
Those of us that are basically born sickly are worse than the common coke whores you would see rotting in the streets; I can tell you that much. In fact I would kill to switch places...except that I wouldn't because I can't even kill a spider without bawling my eyes out...despite the fact I'm terrified of them.
I'm already falling back into that stereotypical habit of allowing my disease to slip into my thoughts and actions...Oh well I guess the only way to make things right is to ignore the albino elephant in the room and not tell you my affliction. Don't worry your curiosity will be sated soon enough.
My eyes were only closed for what could have been minutes but to me only felt like seconds when I heard my Dad's manly rumble "Thought so, we warned you last night that we don't have time for any sort of messing around, so we wanted you in bed nice and early. Instead you stayed up until midnight."
Crap I was busted...
"Now for your punishment." I heard a odd swishing sound just before I begun screaming and bolting out of bed when an icy blast of cold water soaked into everything that had the misfortune to be lying on my bed.
"DAD! WHAT THE HELL?! MY LAPTOP IS LYING WAS LYING NEXT TO ME!"
"Don't you be raising your voice and curse at me missy or I won't allow you to go to the movies with us this coming weekend." My dad spat back with a glare as he took a puff of a cigarette. Frantically I pulled back the covers to try to find the laptop hidden underneath in order to check the damages that I already knew would put it out of commission.
Except it wasn't where I remembered putting it.
Confused I looked back up to Dad who was now pointing toward the beanbag chair that was hardly ever used in the corner of the room: on top of it was the missing laptop.
At least he has some common decency I thanked whatever God watching over my poor innocent laptop as I breathed a sigh of relief before looking down at myself to find my white night gown completely soaked through---did i mention I prefer to wear nothing underneath these wonderful things purely out of habit since they are so similar to hospital gowns?
I let out a shriek of horror before I diving back underneath the covers that by now were only fit for a polar bear to lie in.
"Get up. You'll catch your death under there if you stay under any longer" my Dad commanded somewhat sternly with a hint of worry creeping in his voice. My teeth clattered as I shook my head in reply. My dad rolled his eyes as he replied "You've got nothing I haven't already seen before. I've changed your diapers, bathed you , and quite recently was the one that pulled you out when you had that attack in the bath. Quite frankly I have no idea what your ashamed of since your absolutely gorgeous."
"G-g-get out." I murmured.
"Pardon?" my dad said cupping his left hand to his ear.
At this point the shell shock of my current situation finally wore off and a wave of rage hit me like a truck "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUUUUUUUUUUT!" I shrieked as I began tossing whatever I could get my hands on at his stupid laughing face. When I grabbed the heavy lamp on my bedside table, Dad made an very feminine 'eep like sound under his breath before slamming the door shut right before I could throw it.
Was totally gonna give him hell for this later.
Fully expected Dad to break down the door to scrounge up what was left of his masculine pride in a big 'Dad rage mode' fit any second once he realized that he just fled with his tail between his legs from his sickly nearly 18 year old daughter. Instead I heard him grumble what suspiciously sounded like 'never understanding teenage girls' as his heavy steel-toed boots thumped against the carpeted staircase before disappearing completely.
I breathed out another sigh of relief; but as my embarrassment, anger, and adrenaline faded: a wave of weakness that swept me off my feet. Wasn't one of the big ones so I didn't black out this time at least (damn near close though) nor did it happen while I was hobbling around on my crutches so at least I wasn't immobilized on the uncomfortable floor. Yeaaah that last part would suck since my last moments of freedom would be stripped from me about as fast as my secretly Olympic sprinter parents can rush up the staircase; then it's off to the hos- sorry- second home (parents kinda get pissed at the mere mention of the H word). Usually I'm not this bad; just hadn't eaten yet.
I took a few minutes to rest and relax the way that I was taught when I found myself in the unfortunate position of not being in a place where privacy was a laughable illusion.
Don't panic. Don't scream. will just make things worse. Just breathe s l o w l y. Not this hyperventilating crap you are currently doing. Deep inhale. hold. exhale. inhale. exhale.
After a couple minutes I felt the dizziness and fatigue pass enough that the simple task of fetching clothes from my wardrobe and nearly crawl to the bathroom connected to my bedroom was not to be an impossible task.
20 minutes later came my least favorite part of my morning routine: lugging my fat-ass out of the tub. Not saying that because I'm one of those skinny bitches built like a celery stick that always say that their fat either. I have so much junk in my trunk that I get pulled over by cops if I so much as cross the street because I'm not doing the speed limit.
I once placed second in a 'best whale' contest that I didn't even enter!
Ooook I'll admit I'm both ragging on myself and joking at the same time. Truthfully to quote one of my all time favorite comedians: I'm not fat I'm fluffy! I kinda like being proportional even with all the headache that it entails. That's not including all the badgering my doctors and well meaning folks who give me the same 'You need to lose weight because it just makes living with my disease harder on my body the more it progresses AND the whole possible diabetes thing' speech. I'm not even obese level! Just a healthy beer belly and a booty that sometimes makes both guys and gals that I pass by in the streets go 'DAYUM'.
I mean c'mon chill your tits people, God!
Sorry about the rant...this is a bit of a sensitive topic for me and I kinda like to talk as much as I like to eat; which is a freaking lot (I have ample opportunity to since I enjoy cooking and baking). I blame my parents for feeding me so well growing up. With good reason since I do need every bit of energy I can get just to get through the day. Which actually helps believe it or not...or at least at least I hope it isn't a placebo. Anyway my parents just wish I exercise more to turn some of it into muscle (HA fuck that!)
Still it's a HUGE headache to pull myself out of the tub everyday cause tubs and me do NOT get along. Too bad showers are against the law around here so I'm literally forced to take baths since I blackout rather frequently. Guess my parents love me enough to not want me bleeding lying lifeless in a place where I can actually drown.
Speaking of...I must have done that exact thing after my bath since one second I was free from my prison and the next I blinking awake thanks the sound of a vicious knocking came from the bathroom door "Honey are you ok?" the sound of panic in my mother's voice was very obvious.
After a quick inner debate I decided that the best option was to lie through my teeth like always in times like these. "Yeah I'm fine just slipped is all!"No use in lying about not falling because like I said my ass is so fat that there had to have been a rather loud bang (Poor tub and floor). Despite guilt trying to poke holes in my resolve, my lie came out so plainly and fluidly that I almost believed it myself. Sometimes it's scary how easy lying was even though I hate it. Guess practice really does make perfect.
"Oh thank god" my mother whispered to herself thinking I wouldn't be able to hear that and her sniffling and muffled sobs.
Great...she's worked herself up in a tizzy again. Hopefully she actually goes to her therapist this time while I'm getting my exams done. For some reason Mom schedules her appointments with mine just so she back out of them at the last moment; despite the fact she needs them in order to not suffer from another panic attack from hell akin to PTSD just from stress and worry. Before my diagnosis my mom was one of those mothers that was completely paranoid about the their child's well being that they would nearly suffocate the child with her hovering.
Now I'm lucky to escape the watchful glare of my mom for five minutes without her having a nearly schizophrenic panic attack. Herbie (her Minun) and Dad together are the only two people that can calm her down. Which is the only reason why my doctors allow me to come home from to time despite how fragile I am on a bad day: because they know I will be well taken care of and if I so much as sneeze my mom will have me back at my second home faster than anyone can blink; that is by the way without my mom hovering over everything they do to me (as long as I'm not in the ICU anyway). A sort of trust between them that took years to build.
I heard some keys jiggling and sighed "Don't even think about it Mom. I'm fine" I wasn't just saying that, I really was fine. The random bouts of weakness and blackouts happen are considered normal and only last barely a few seconds but enough to cause worry.
Oh and I probably should explain another thing; When you see me refering to my 'blackouts' that's just a shortcut for saying I kinda fall asleep like a diabetic person with extremely low blood sugar except when my blood sugar is perfectly fine. See what happens is- never mind I'll go over the full details later.
"Didn't the shrink say you were to be bedridden until noon?"I called out curiously, My mom doesn't eat or sleep very much cause apparently anxiety disorders do that. Do not ask how Mom deals with my father being in the military... mainly because she doesn't but is left with no other choice; hence the shrink.
"I'll sleep when I'm dead." this statement was accompanied with a very hollow sounding laugh, I knew Mom was attempting a joke. But due to the fact that Mom's statement was so matter-of-factly spoken and the fact she has had some very close calls with suicide in the past: well you can only imagine my terror without words because they won't do it justice.
Took me a few to make it to the door with as much grace as a baby deer shaking from both the physical effort of activity, fear, and more than a hint of anger. This is why I was able to fake the light-heartedness in my response "That wasn't funny in the slightest. You damn well get better material before I spank ya"
That made Mom breathe a girlish giggle: a sound akin to shattered glass tinkling to the floor as she responded with a indigent reply of "You think? I brought you into this world so I can take you out!"
"Bring it anytime old laydai"Just for effect I added a southern drawl to the inflection in my voice.
"Watch it" Was that actually a word of warning coming from my mother? Color me surprised
"Sorry...I'll be good" actual fear of taking things too far now hitting me like a sledge hammer
"You better!" Mom is the biggest failure of an actor which is proven by the way she broke the next moment when I heard the sign of a full bodied laugh before she quickly said "Now hurry up and finish getting ready. Your breakfast is getting cold. It's your faaavorite"
"I'll be there in 2.5 seconds!" I hardly exaggerating cause, I mean ;who doesn't like blueberry pancakes? The answer is no one if they're sane. Fuck yeah!
A few moments later I finally sensed my mom leave the entrance of bathroom, leaving me to finish my daily ritual in peace. After everything is all said and done I give myself one last look in the mirror:
Excluding the obvious fact that I'm a big girl in both girth and height (I'm like 6'3 feet tall): In the mirror I see a nearly 18 year old girl of both a Caucasian (dad) and African American (mom) heritage with a roundish sort of face which did nothing to hide the fact I have eyes the size of owl's (thanks Mom...) but at the same time my big head sort of makes my eyes normal size so that's good I guess. I like to wear my hair pretty long and refuse to have anyone cut it even though it's a pain in the ass to maintain, mainly because people sometimes compliment how healthy it appears. Not one bit nappy even though; almost shiny, best of all it's not bogged down with all those ridiculous conditioners, chemicals, and special treatments that most girls can't live without. I guess the only part that I'm leaving out is my button nose (that I hate cause- again that owl comparison thing) and last but certainly not least the unremarkable but not small either pair of honkers like any one of my gender and age is supposed to have poking out of their chest.
I guess this is the part where I explain how horrible I look thanks to my disease and just how much makeup I apply just to go out in the light of day. Surprisingly my disease has no visual cues like all the other life threatening illnesses...well I kinda do look tired and pale almost 24/7 most days but what sickness kind of doesn't do that anyway?
Course I could look worse, if the internet has shown me anything then it's I'm getting off scot free in the 'disease affecting my looks and mood' department. Heck if I'm almost bouncy in all ways compared to all of them. Still keeping my fluff is hard to do most of the time thanks to the meds upsetting my stomach; but I swallow past it (ha pun!) since I need my weight to fake the fact that I'm better off then I actually am.
What you actually thought my obsession with weight was some hipster-fuck-you-society's-opinion statement? HAH! As if I enjoyed being the emotional and physical whipping girl in a slim dominated world. Nah I'm just fond of manipulating appearances to make mine and those I care about life's easier.
Did I mention the fact I have tendency to be the biggest fibber that ever walked the planet? What? I hate to lie? Oooh yeah I did kinda say that. Welp I kinda lied about that... sooo sorry? No more lies towards you I pinky pwomitth. I would feel bad but I rather be a liar than pitied since I could have things a thousand times worse. Becker muscular dystrophy is a bitch but it's a bitch that I can endure silently and causes the most minimum damage as possible when 25-30 year time limit is up.
Ah damn forgotten that I was going to wait to tell you that, Ah well the jig was going to end sooner or later anyway.
Yes I'm aware that this disease very rarely show up in females. No I don't have anything wrong with my mental facilities so don't even ask. I also have to rely on crutches for very short distance walking and a wheelchair for the rest of my life thanks to the weakness and the pain I constantly feel; most likely lose my legs in the future. The most frequent pain in my ass is the fatigue and the difficulty breathing thing (Unlucky/luckily that's not BMD, just the real bad asthma that I had since birth) since the latter is the one that causes my blackouts. The rest of the symptoms I have a mixture of frequencies with.
There you know what disease that I have been hinting at this whole time and will do my utmost best to avoid mentioning as little as possible.
Anyway let's just skip me walking you through the whole morning routine thing 'kay?
Okay!
I'm done rambling to myself about issues that appear in my thoughts a million times over each day. All it does is make me sad. Which makes my parents, Herbie, and Amber (basically my other set of parents) worried, sometimes panicked, stressed, and depressed. So to solve this problem I have to be happy all the time no matter what actual mood I'm in. Which of course means lying constantly.
I made my best attempt of my best smile at the mirror. Experiment failed: you can see the pain that I was now currently feeling in my expression. Ok how about a content one? hmmm not bad, not bad... will be convincing if I keep my mind preoccupied with positive things...Damn it! Nothing is coming!
Hmmm I wonder if I can squeeze in a funny cat video or two before I go downstairs?
"JJ what are you doing?" Mom called out from the kitchen/ dining room of the house.
"Putting my bed things in the dryer because someone decided to wash it the old fashion way without soap" I shouted back as I pressed the start button on said dryer and walked away without giving it a second thought. Mom will stop it once it goes off since she is staying home this time.
"Tattle-tail!" My Dad shouted back playfully from the same direction as my mother's voice.
"At least I least I don't have the maturity of a five year old!" I spat back but the amusement in my tone sort of weakened the faux venom in my voice. Even more so when I said good morning to my dad the usual way of pecking him quickly on the stubble of a beard veiling his face that the lazy bastard is too lazy to shave off. Dad of course like usual had his buried in the newspaper. Wish I could talk Dad into using an IPad, but he is too old-fashioned for those type of technological conveniences.
"Coming from the girl that still watches every Disney movie ever on made. I also recall seeing Princess Tealeafa still sitting on your bed " Dad replied with a sly grin. Princess Tealeafa was the old hand-made doll that my mother made me for my 7th birthday. Back then my symptoms were just beginning to show themselves. A problem which put us damned close to the bankruptcy line before things became more manageable. Parents could barely afford to put food on the table let alone buy presents. So until I was around eleven or twelve, most of my birthday presents were handcrafted.
I didn't mind one bit; to be honest those gifts became way more special than anything that could have been bought in the store. Anyway Princess Tealeafa's appearance was very similar to a Raggedity Ann doll but PT was better in my opinion since it's light brown skin reminds me of the chocolate that I so rarely get except on special occasions and light green eyes that made her even more adorable. I still kept all the dresses that my mom made for her! Can't get rid of any of them (as in the dresses and the doll) because they are too special to get rid of. I guess you could say that I inherited at least a tiny bit of old-fashioned-ness from my father.
"Mom! Dad's being mean and making fun of me again" I pouted as I hugged my mother for support who was shaking uncontrollably with laughter at mine and Dad's antics. She's reduced to laughter way too easily sometimes. Oh if you want a physical description of Mom then just picture a twin of me but WAY skinnier, a shade or two darker, and way way way way way way more prettier.
Finally when the laughter died into chuckles as she shot back towards Dad "Pffft as if your any better Mr. DJ."
"Hey I don't hear you complaining when my hobby brings in a wad of cash" Dad grumbled as his grin turned to a glare like frown. Not going to waste a physical description of Dad cause there is nothing remarkable about a average-joe, scary skinny, girlish, beatnik like him. Think of the exact opposite appearance of a man in a military and that would be him.
"Just teasing dear, grow a backbone you wimp" my mom replied with a taunting smirk
"I showed you my backbone last-" Dad began before I immediately cut him off before he could finish the very disturbing sentence.
"EW! Ok lovebirds keep the conversation Pg 13 while the child is still in the room please!"
Dad' lowered the paper just low enough to show us his rapidly growing mischievous grin as he said "Surprised you didn't hear her when-"
"Dad!" "Kip!" I and my mother screamed while I covered my ears as they went beat red with the rest of my face
"Honey stop, the jokes over!" Mom commanded as she too went beat red with embarrassment. Poor Dad was laughing so hard he fell out of the chair, which only seemed to make him laugh even harder.
Mom and I shared the same exact bewildered expression and said simultaneously "I think he's broken" just then we heard the pitter patter of little feet coming rushing towards us. My mom smiled as she bent down to accept the several bags full of what seemed to be -judging from the label on the bags- was something from the small grocery around the corner.
"Thanks you two! I don't know what I would ever do without you. Such helpful little darlings deserve ice cream treats later" Mom cooed proudly as she rubbed them both behind their red and blue ears.
"Minun!"
"Plusle!"
A single startled cry was all Mom got out a before both rodent Pokémon lunged to glomp and nuzzle the stuffing out of Mom's face to the point she fell on her butt before making vapor trails. In a flash two usually very mature rodents suddenly morphed into three year olds that were just told they were going to Disney world in just a few short hours. Moving like blurs all over the house while cart wheeling and jumping around all over the place to the point the rest of us didn't feel safe moving around because we didn't want to risk stepping on them.
Saying that Herbie and Amber love ice-cream would be the understatement of the century. Believe it or not they love frozen yogurt even more. Actually they will go crazy for just about any kind of milk related products.
Except cheese. They hate cheese.
In other news Dad was still laughing.
"Umm mom I hope you kept the receipt for this Dad cause I think he is broken beyond all repair." I said worriedly as I poked him with a sock covered foot.
"I'll have to agree with you on that. Our teasing really wasn't that funny. Herbie. Amber. If you would?"
Both rodents suddenly froze as if someone hit the pause button on some remote controller,then slowly turned towards Dad as their checks started giving off sparks of electricity: both had a look of complete and utter focus and concentration as they held each other's tiny paws to combine their attacks into a single powerful blast. Judging from the massive ball of light growing larger and larger: it was an attack that looked powerful enough that it would knock even a elephant unconscious.
Um Mom really should have thought about Herbie's and Amber's over enthusiasm to please before giving an order like that. Thanks to the fact they half ass nothing, our two favorite rodents have the habit of going a little over the top sometimes.
When Dad saw this, the laughter died instantly in his throat with a sound akin to a squawk "NO! I'm fine see!? I'm okay I'm okay!"
The rodent couple immediately dispersed the attack into the form of pom-poms and loud thunderous blast t of electric crackling very loudly.
"Oh crap!" the three of us humans screamed simultaneously as we all dived underneath the kitchen table before the literal fireworks could go off, which in milliseconds did go off and began to trash the surrounding area.
Remember what I said about Herbie and Amber going a little over the top sometimes? Well things like this and then some happen all the time. At least they make sure things never get boring around here.
When our two trouble makers were done, we climbed out from our hiding place. My dad was positively fuming but was it was evident that he was trying to keep it under wraps of a low boil for the twins sake "I told you two a thousand time not to do that in the house! Especially you Amby, you know better." Both rodents were shaking as they hid behind their ears in fright; despite the fact the worse either of my parents have done to them was take away their gaming privileges for a couple hours after giving them a 'stern' talking to.
Yes those two are gamers and extremely good ones at that.
We are just lucky that they don't take punishment very well. Last time the hyperactive, goofy nut jobs were given the slightest punishment they turned into emo shut-ins for almost a week. During those times we have to deal with the suns of our lives turning into dark holes that suck all the joy and energy from the room. This isn't a exaggeration. It's actually the only time you will ever see them refuse ice-cream/frozen yogurt.
I know my family is a weird one. You'll get used to it.
"Well what they did was a lot better than making your heart stop with the blast they were prepping up." Mom added as she rushed over to put the flames consuming the curtains in front of the window above the kitchen sink so fast that the fire alarm didn't even go off. That accomplished Mom took a survey the destruction of the kitchen. Besides the curtain and a few knocked over objects; the only other issue(s) were the scorch marks on the walls and cabinets.
We got off extremely lucky this time.
"Good point. Nice quick thinking you two" My dad replied, deflating instantly to a degree and so quickly that was almost laughable as he leaned down to pat and rub on both the rodent's heads.
"Minun!"
"Plusle!"
See what mean?
"What even set you off dear?" My mom questioned as she dusted herself off, washed her hands, before going back to her food but not without reaching over to opening the microwave to my portion in front of me.
I almost started bawling the sight was so beautiful...
Hey! YOU trying living on nothing but hospital food with only the care packages to tide you over until the bi-weekly trips home that is nearly gourmet in comparison!
"HEY! You try spending months on end in the military encampment. I feel like I haven't laughed the whole entire time I was away from home! Trying to find people with our odd sense of humor is akin to trying to find a women in a gay bar. It's impossible!"
My mom and I said nothing as we gave my dad the exact same odd questioning and bewildered look.
"Had some wild times in training" was my Dad's simple vague reply as if that explained everything.
Mine and mom's facial expressions didn't change.
"You really don't wanna know" said Dad calmly mumbled while returning to his chair and newspaper that nearly hid the slight blush consuming his face.
"Oooook." was all I heard my mother say before a companionable (if a tiny bit awkward) silence elapsed over us. A couple minutes later Mom got up to bring her empty plate to the sink. If Mom follows her usual routine then she should be starting on the dishes while she is up there but I couldn't look to make sure cause I was too busy stuffing my face with gusto.
"Um honey...why is there a coffee cup in the sink when I haven't had any yet today?" This accusation caused Dad to jump and slowly put the paper down to uncover the now pale face slowly rotating to face the fuming visage of his wife standing behind him holding said coffee cup on the tip of her finger.
In case you haven't figured out yet Dad isn't supposed to have coffee. Dad can't take caffeine very well for multiple reasons. To start things off let's just say that one cup turns into like fifteen in the span of twenty minutes. Dad likes the rush of energy too much to not to sneak a cup or two past my mom.
Which is a problem because after just a few cups he becomes jittery and shaky as a recovering drug addict. Dad's body is very weak to the effects of both caffeine and alcohol: no endurance whatsoever. Dad also says (in his words not mine) just one cup of any of them makes him piss gallons: which is bad considering that he needs that fluid to not wind up in the hospital (again) from dehydration since his heavily demanding career choice. A job that doesn't really give a whole lot of bathroom and water breaks. Mom is worried about the effects that it has on Dad's aging heart; which is thanks to a certain doctor visit that Dad still curses to this day. Paranoid as Mom is, it shouldn't be a surprise at all that she gets extremely upset every time she catches Dad in the act.
Dad swallowed his own spit with a audible gulp before saying, somewhat shakily to me "Try to hurry sweetie we have to leave rather soon if we want to make it in time"
" 'Kay" I replied through the mouthful of awesome without opening my now busy chewing mouth, trying to fight the amused smirk from spreading into an a shit-eating grin and full hysterics; anticipating what was coming in the near future.
"Good girl." Dad said with an almost tender pat on my head before dashing away with my mom hot on his heels with the coffee cup still in her hand. I rolled my eyes but could help but giggle at the cries for mercy that could be heard all the way from an unknown room at the other end of the house.
My family is so damn weird.
"Get some rest Mom, I'll be home soon." I said with wide grin plastered on my face as I gave Mom a kiss on the cheek before giving her a tight hug.
"Anything can happen, you can't be cer- urf" I cut Mom off with an extremely tight hug then I withdrew my face away from Mom's: grin now gone and replaced with a feirce intimidating if a little tired looking glare.
"I. will. be. fine." I said softly with my best deadly serious face.
"O-ok. See you soon honey" Mom replied giving me a another even tighter hug for a few moments before we both released each other. My smile was back as I waved to her one last time before racing towards the passenger seat of the car.
"Stuff packed in the backseat just in case?" Dad asked as we both buckled in our seatbelts.
"Yup. Can I pick the music this time?" Dad nodded before wincing as if he didn't think before replying and now regretted it. I ignored my Dad's wince and dug into my pocket for my IPod touch with one hand while digging for the cable that hooks the device to the CD player/speakers with the other.
"Oh thank god, Herbie and Amber are coming!"The fact that my Dad sounded like he was stranded in the desert and had just found a source of water would have pricked me more if I wasn't used to it by now. With a groan I glanced towards the house to see that Herbie and Amber were indeed rushing towards the car with their travel bag with their modest collection of portable games dragging behind them on the ground as they rapidly made tracks towards the car. The sight resulting me sliding down in my seat in a pouty huff because we all knew that the rodent duo hated my music so much that they were prone to crying (more like bawling) until someone finally shut it off.
Everyone's a critique.
I was debating on putting in my headphones when something very odd happened. Just as the Plusle and Minun made it to the halfway mark of the long driveway: Herbie suddenly fell face forward as if someone had whacked his head with a mallet. Same thing happened to Amber about a second later before she could even react to the sudden collapse of her mate.
I think panic overwhelmed us all as we rushed toward the downed Pokémon.
Well I at least tried to anyway...considering the stress of the incident kinda caused me to hyper ventilate uncontrollably to the point that by the time I was done wasting precious moments struggling to get the seat belt off I was already dizzy and seeing spots. An Asthma attack will do that to a big girl like me rather quickly. During that moment of confusion I must have forgotten the whole handicap thing while I'm in this sorry state cause when I stepped out of the car, weeeell...Here's a math equation for ya: High Jeep model of vehicle+ human's head+ gravity+ landing on solid concrete at the worse angle possible = what exactly?
Possibly something very bad because everything went dark and very cold after that...Before I faded completely into the void: I could have swore I heard a very familiar yet very difficult to place voice say:
"Well that is a pretty damn embarrassing way to die...be careful next time you dumbass"