Here's a little something i came up with at the expense of studying for my midterm and, it was actually for my cousin's homework assignment. I want to know how i was dragged into it but whatevies... I'm me, you're you, we've done something we regretted at some point in our lives. oh yeah Allison is obviously Al, had to make some weird modifications for a catholic school teacher. Yeah... on with my homework assignment!

I'm just going to come out with it. There's no need to actually hide it, I mean, who would I be kidding if I continued to live in this sad world of denial. Ok, here's goes…

I'm in love with Ivan.

There, I said it! I, Matthew Williams Bonnefoy-Kirkland, am in love with Ivan Braginsky. He is the most amazing guy I have ever laid my eyes on. But… he's in a relationship with a dirty whore that just so happens to also be my sister. I hate her… I absolutely loathe Allison F. Jones. What the hell has she ever done for this family aside from causing headaches. She always manages to take the spotlight from me. Always… she even manage to strip me of all potential friends, or contact with the rest of the world. I am no longer an individual, because that slut has made me simply the boy who is related to Allison the freaking great! Even my parents are sucked in my her stupid charm! Everything she does is so great, 'Oh, Allison needs this and that', 'Allison has to get to ballet practice', 'Allison, Allison, Allison!'

I don't know why I decided now to be the best time to occupy myself with such trivial things like my sister, I'm making pancakes for Pete's sake! I don't have the time or patience to do this, no… I have patience, not the time. After flipping my last pancake and placing it perfectly on a stack of three, I go to the fridge in search my super expensive maple syrup that my best friend bought for me on his trip to Canada a week ago, and, there was… none… left. I could feel my blood boil in my veins, my vision was getting a little hazy o-or blurry… My heart was racing at what felt like a hundred miles per hour. I started to yell and scream, throwing that empty glass bottle of Maple syrup against the kitchen wall and shaking the fridge in heated rage. All of the seasonings and spices that were on the stop of the fridge were falling off, some glasses breaking, and leaving a pile of what may have been either cinnamon or cumin. I slammed my fist into the freezer door as I slid down in a bleak manner, my tears weren't letting me see correctly anymore, everything was blurry. I don't know how much more I can take of Allison ruining everything I love… everything I have, even if it is her taking Ivan away from me, or just a bottle of maple syrup. I won't let her take anything else away from me.

A few hours after I decided to throw out my perfect pancakes and cry my eyes out, I grab my laptop and walk in into the second dining room that was completely away from the kitchen—well the kitchen on the other side of the house—and check my email. I've been waiting for my friend to send me some info on his trip to Germany, to as he said, 'revisit my Prussian roots', which by far makes absolutely no sense. With my headphones in my ear, blasting some good old RHCP, I sigh and look down at my phone, that was resting happily next to my laptop, and notice that I just got a text from my special someone. It was Ivan telling me to open the door because he could see me through the window. I look up and tilt my head to the side a little, in question. I wouldn't have heard the door anyway, besides, I'm too busy waiting for no one in particular.

I get up from the dining chair and trudge to the door with a long face. I would usually be happy to see Ivan, but I'm still pissed at the fact that I never got a chance to fully enjoy my maple syrup, others may think that this is just a big pile of nothing, but it was just a very important gift from a very important friend, who thinks he has very important things to do other than talk to me… I bet he's experiencing the ultimate high with Lars right now. I open the door only to be greeted with a cold stare. I look up at Ivan with a tired smile and say, "Hey, Ivan, it's nice to see you again… but Allison isn't here right now, would you like to come in and wait for her?"

He nods and walks in behind me. I look back at him and say, "You can wait for her anywhere you like, if you need anything just look for me in the dining room, ok?" He nods wordlessly again, and I'm just blushing like mad. Just seeing him makes my heart jump a few times. As he walked toward the den, I had to force myself to not jump him and kiss him like a love-crazed girl. I walked back into the living room and put down the curtains. I walked to china cabinet and inhaled deeply. I smile as look for the one thing I may have invested properly in.

"A thousand dollars worth of some really good Misty," I whisper to myself as I grab a tissue and roll the first blunt of the day. Why didn't I think of it sooner, besides, it's not like anyone would know… I hear a ringing noise coming from my laptop, seems like Gilbo has finally gotten online. I hear his ridiculous yet alluring cackle, just calling for me. I yell out that I would be right there, all I had to do was find the lighter, where ever it was. After I found it, I rushed to my laptop and greeted Gil and, apparently, Lars with a smile. They greeted me back and said, "Dude… we're like completely stoned right now!" I pouted and said, "I knew you guys were having a good time without me."

"What about that Misty I got for you? Is it any good?" asked Lars. I shrugged and said, "I don't know, I'm going to find out right now." I lit up the blunt and took a hit. I indulged in it for a minute then started to giggle uncontrollably. I looked at Gil and Lars and said, "You guys are going to have to come back soon to get a hit of this shit, it's—it's—."

I was lying on the floor with my laptop on my stomach, which was probably filled with all the junk food Allison had here. Wrappers of cinnamon rolls, three boxes of girl scout cookies, like four small unfinished bags of chips, one sadly empty can of sour cream and onion Pringles, and cute little White Castle sliders were just thrown carelessly on the carpet around me—in fact, there was a half eaten slider on my forehead… I wonder how that got there. Lars and Gilbert were also coming down from their high, then Gil, yawned and said, "Hey, Birdie! We're gonna hit the sack, we've got a long day ahead of us, so be good and save some of that stuff man!" I nodded and said goodbye. I looked up at the chandelier and thought about my next move. I don't remember ever hearing Ivan leave so I got up and walked to the den. He wasn't there. I frowned a little wondering where the hell he would go, considering Allison wasn't home yet—no wait, she is.

I walked quietly to her room, and heard them talking and lip smacking. Are they really going to do this now? I ran to my room and grabbed my pillow, trying to pull it apart with my feeble hands, failing miserably.

I should be the one under Ivan, writhing in both pleasure and pain, begging him to go faster, pleading like hungry man for more! I should be the one he holds after he releases himself in me, telling me that he loves me. Why won't he open his eyes and come to the one who he truly deserves.

I shouldn't have smoked that blunt, I should've been alert, you know, paying attention! Now how am I going to get Allison out of the way? What am I going to have to do to get her out of the way?

Then it dawned on me…It is going to get very exciting when Ivan leaves, in fact, he's going to miss out on all the fun we're going to have.

I finally heard the footstep I wanted to hear, which was of Ivan leaving that whore's room. I want to sit up, but I just don't have the right amount of energy for it, but I force myself up, support myself on my elbows when I start to look around my room. I gazed at all the posters and pictures I had up on my wall. I remember the one picture I drew after hearing the story of Jack the Ripper, I don't think everything he did was right, but he was kind of ridding the world of no good people like Allison then my eyes lie on probably the most important thing to me in the whole world. My hockey stick. It was resting on the wall next to the desk with the rest of my hockey equipment. I stare at it maliciously and smile a little. I remember that this is also one of the best things I have ever invested in as well, but not costing anything more than $160. I remember how long I had to actually work because my parents thought I was going to blow it off on nothing.

I stared at the stick and my eyes widened, I swear my hockey stick was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't figure out what. I sat up and continued to stare at it just waiting for whatever idea I had to just come out of the dark. I threw my feet over to the other side of the bed and stood up. I took in a deep breath and walked over to the stick.

"Winner takes all…?" I ask quietly. I ran my finger down the top half of the shaft of it, the feel of the wood feeling all to familiar to me again. I could feel my blood pumping again, but in a good way—no, it was better than good—it was absolutely amazing. I grabbed the stick and held it close to my chest. I closed my eyes and let my imagination flow… a deep red painted the floor in the foyer of the house. The sounds of screaming and the begs for mercy, sounding like music to my ears. The melody of wood cracking on bare flesh… but the red… the deep red… it was—

I ran to the foyer, with my hockey stick in hand, and saw Allison smiling as she closed the door. She turned around and looked at me and said, with that stupid giggle, "Hey Mattie, you done talking to your pothead loser friends?"

I tried to breathe evenly but the run from my room to the foyer was quite long. My blood was still racing through my body, giving me that rush that I only felt when playing hockey against another school. Allison looked at expectant of an answer. But I've already decided, I'm done answering to her—in fact—I'm done answering to everyone. I work on my own accord I walked up to Allison with my hockey stick raised above my head—

He yelled as he mercilessly beat his sister with the hockey stick he cherished so much. After a few hits, she fell to the floor, her arms desperately trying to shield her as much as it possibly could. Although his sister called out for help, begging her brother to stop, he wouldn't let up. She figure that fighting back would only make him angrier so she opted for simply defending herself as best as she could. After the stick broke he moved on to using his own fists. He continuously insulted her, accusing her of all the things that was wrong with his life. After he realized that she was no longer moving, Matthew looked down at her with a satisfied look on his face. Just as he imagined, deep red painting the floor, her, possibly, lifeless body sprawled out on the floor, less than gracefully. He wiped the blood of his chin with his even bloodier hand. He walked away from her and stared at his face in the mirror.

"The color red suits me well…" he muttered to his own reflection. He smirked then looked down at his feet. His socks were leaving a faint trail of blood. He took them off and held on to them carefully, making sure it touched nothing else in the house. But then right before he left the foyer, the door opened. Matthew stopped dead in his tracks then slowly turned to see who it was.

"Maman, Dad… I'm so happy you're home…"