In the never-ending sea of darkness, a small fragment of light suddenly flickered into existence. The light slowly expanded, almost as if consuming the endless pitch black, replacing it with an all too familiar sense of warmth.
I recoiled under the embrace of that warmth, trying to deny its hold on me, but it was already too late.
*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*
It was a sound I knew all too well. A sound that made all hope drain from my body, filling me with nothing but resignation. It was my alarm, telling me that my night of blissful sleep had come to an end.
I reluctantly opened my eyes and was immediately assaulted by the blinding light of the sun. The sudden pain caused my body to jolt upright, making me retreat from the sanctum that was the comfort of my bed.
I took a glance at my room. It was the same as usual. The room gave the sense that it was devoid of any life, as the air carried a slight chill that would make your skin crawl. The only source of warmth in my room came from the rays of light that peeked through my curtains, allowing me to see wisps of dust motes here and there.
I half-heartedly got up from my bed and made my way to the washroom to get my day started. I turned the faucet on with warm water and rinsed my hands. Comforting shivers ran through my body, erasing the early morning chill.
Intent on enjoying this sensation for a bit longer, I absent-mindedly glanced at my reflection in the mirror.
Call it a little egotistical, but I kind of liked staring at my reflection. Nothing's wrong with admiring yourself; sometimes you have to be your own hype man. It took me years to get my black hair to the length it is today. It was a little longer than what a guy would usually have, but not long enough that I'd be mistaken for a girl.
I was only snapped out of my self-appreciating trance when something that resembled a log crashed into my behind.
With a disappointed sigh, I turned around. It was my little sister—who was looking at me with a slightly annoyed expression on her face.
"How long are you gonna be hogging the bathroom, you narcissist? Go stare at yourself somewhere else!"
"You ever heard of first-come, first-served?" I countered, my voice lacking the same irritation she had. "Just shut up and wait. And stop hitting my butt all the time."
She gave me a look of utter exasperation, as I had just said something truly despicable. "What are you talking about? How am I supposed to do that? It's just so… THICK!"
I rolled my eyes and looked away from her. I just didn't understand how she could be so energetic in the morning—or at all, really. Even though my little sister can be an annoying piece of work sometimes, these little moments were entertaining in their own way… I guess.
I made the motion of shooing her off, treating her like nothing more than a feral animal. "Gimme 5 more minutes and I'll be done."
"I don't appreciate the way you did that, but okay~."
I watched her waltz back into her room and joyfully hop onto her bed face-first.
If you didn't want to get out of bed, you didn't have to get up just to harass me, brat.
"Get that stupid smirk off your face," she yelled from her room, seemingly out of nowhere. "It's ugly—and so are you, by the way."
I didn't know what possessed her to say that, considering that I probably wasn't smiling—nor could she see me, since her face was stuffed in her pillow. But I simply shook my head.
"Whatever. Just go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when I'm done."
She raised her arm, giving me a quick thumbs up before it fell back onto her mattress.
After that, I quickly got to my morning routine. I brushed my teeth, rinsed my face, did my hair in a messy middle part type of style, and dried myself off with a towel.
"I'm done," I said as I stepped into the hallway. "The washroom's all yours."
"..."
No response.
Just what the hell does she think she's doing? She did all that just to go back to sleep? How did she even go to sleep that quickly? I could never do that.
Left with no other option, I barged into her room and took a peek at her repulsive face. A wicked grin suddenly found its way to my face, and I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle over what I was about to do next.
I reached my hand toward her—and veered it in the direction of her blanket. I grabbed it from its very seams and pulled on it with all I had.
As soon as the blanket left her body, her eyes shot open, and she instantly stretched her hand and took hold of it before it could be completely taken away.
"What do you think you're doing?!" she yelled, furious.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" I answered matter-of-factly, yanking it back. "I said I'd wake you up, and I'm doing just that."
"I don't care! Give me my blanket back, you stupid Brother!"
It looked like we were in a stalemate, but that's what I wanted her to think. It would have been funnier if I had given her the slight hope of getting her beloved blanket back, just to snatch it away at the last moment.
When it looked like she was about to win, I put a little more strength into my tug, stealing the blanket away from her. The inertia caused her to fly off her bed and tumble onto the floor, without even the soft embrace of a blanket to cushion her fall. A complete and utter defeat.
"NOOOO!" she cried. "GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK!"
She leapt off the ground and began flailing her arms at me. But before she could close the distance, I grabbed her face—maintaining the distance between us—and put the arm holding the blanket over my head. At this moment, my sister looked genuinely pitiful.
Seeing this, I couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh. The thought of my sister fighting an unwinnable battle, crying, screaming, and complaining, is a joy only an older sibling could understand. But it seemed I got too overconfident. While revelling in my complete victory, I felt a sharp pain course through my entire body.
I pulled the hand that was holding her back and looked at it. Deep bitemarks penetrated my flesh, and in their wake, leaving nothing but a sharp pain.
I looked at my sister in sheer shock. "What the hell is your problem?! You're 13 years too old to be biting still!"
Assuming children still bite people at two years old. Not that I'd know—I haven't dealt with children... ever.
"Well, maybe you should stop bothering me next time!"
Before I could say anything back to her, a voice from downstairs reached both of us, permeating my sister's room.
"What's taking you guys so long? School is about to start!"
My sister flinched, and my smile faded.
The once playful and loving atmosphere that had filled this room suddenly came to a still, as if hell had frozen over. It was as if the concepts of warmth and happiness were sucked away, replaced by an air that left gashes on your very soul.
...What a killjoy.
I stepped away from my sister and let out a sigh.
It was the voice of our Mother.