"Another long day," I yawn, turning down the radio as I enter the neighborhood where I've been living for nine years now. My family decided to move when we needed to expand for the new arrival of my baby brother.
It was alright until he learned how to crawl; causes then his mitts were all over EVERYTHING! With that I've got to keep hidden, it wasn't an easy task.
Pulling into the drive way, my eyes set on the familiar branch of the pine tree in front of my car.
"Wind speed… 5 miles per hour, gusts ranging from… an average of 42 seconds," I mumble as I get out of the car and grab my back pack.
As I walk through the garage, I put a small smirk on my face and opened the door, "I'm home."
My parents and three year old brother were seated at the table, just finishing dinner.
"Did you have fun with Olivia?" my father asks as I shut the door and kick my shoes off by the mat.
"Yeah, we hung out and discussed some homework," I reply as I set my bags on the edge of the stairs going down stairs.
"Have you eaten dear?" my mother asks.
"No, but I'm not hungry," I reply.
"That's good, because I thought that you would have eating with Olivia, and only made enough for us three," she replies, sounding relieved.
"How much can a three year old eat?" I think as I smile and reply, "It's alright, I'm going to go to bed." I step onto the first step of the stairs, picking up my bags.
"Wait!" I turn to see my little brother with his arms stretched out towards me, "I want a hug!" He begs.
"Fine," I grin and hug him with one arm, the one that didn't have my backpack on it, wanting to keep what was inside far away from him.
When he let go, I rubbed his head and turned to go downstairs.
"Good night," I call up the stair and shut door. I glanced at the window across the basement and watched the masted flag.
"Wind speed, 11 miles per hour, 23 seconds per gust intervals… There must be a storm coming," I think.
There was a sudden knock at the door behind me and I turned to see my mother poking her head through.
"So you know, there is a bad thunder storm coming so you don't want to take long in the shower," She advises.
A small grin appeared on my face as I reply, "Okay mom, I will. Good night, love you,"
She kisses my forehead and heads back upstairs. I enter my room, dumping my bag on my bed and grabbed sweat pants and a tank top.
After my five minute shower, I emerge from the bathroom, hair wrapped in towel and clothes in hand. I drop the clothes into the hamper, sighing when my under armor, covered in blood, is peeking out at me. Flipping the shirt over, I return to my room, shutting the door.
Releasing my hair from the twisted towel, I run my hands through it, combing it out. I set my alarm, grab my Ipod and turn out the lights. Putting in my head phones, my favorite skull candy, and turn up the soothing music by Dr. Jeffery, which was his therapeutic CD that feeds the brain high decibels to sooth the mind.
The high decibels ring through my head, calming my mind as I closed my eyes for the night. Until it felt like the bed moved without me making it do so.
Sighing deeply, I peek an eye open and glare into dark green eyes. Ones I knew from anywhere.
"Mind getting off me David?" I ask, raising my hand slightly, pressing the barrel of my .22 into his stomach.
He just grinned and rolled off the bed, sitting on the floor next to my bed as I sat up, pulling out my ear phones.
"I can't sneak up on you anymore…" he says in a sad sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"Your delivery of attack is always the same," I reminded him, running a hand through my wet hair, "What did you come here for anyways? I've had a long day,"
"I know, but I'm here for the Boss's sake. I'm here to congratulate you on doing a good job tonight," he says, pulling a black envelope from his pocket, handing it to me.
I fold back the flap and skim the few hundred dollar bills, grinning, "I got a raise."
"Really? Then you can buy our dinner on our date," he grins.
"In your dreams," I sigh, placing the envelope into my secret stash compartment in my bed.
"Is that anyway you treat the person who brought your paycheck?" he asks, standing and walking to my desk, looking at the picture frame.
"No, it's how I treat you," I reply.
"Ouch," He grins and turns, leaning back against the desk.
"You usually leave by now, what's up?" I ask, watching his reactions.
"There's just… a lot on my mind," he says, watching me through his forest eyes.
"I'd like to get some sleep if you don't mind, take your thinking somewhere else," I reply, crawling back under my covers.
"Alright, talk to you tomorrow," he replies, walking to the window. He pushed it open and disappeared into the night, leaving me in my dark room.