Why me?
A/N: Don't own Young Wizards...
Ronan was bored, to put it lightly. He was extremely bored, again understatement. "I HATE YOU ALL!" he screamed to nobody in particular.
Carmela just yawned, wiggling her toes. She loved pedicures, especially when it includes boring people to the utter point of death, but not quite.
Ronan cocked his head wondering once again why he was stuck in America, the stinky-smelly, horrendous country that thinks they're a democracy but instead is a totalitarian-state.
"You need to get out of this place, have some fun, see some sights," his mom had said. Yeah yeah, but did he have to stay at Kit-the-soul-stealer's house? No. But it wasn't as if he had any say in it.
"I hate you all," he muttered utterly defeated by the ignorance of girls getting their nails done.
Carmela snickered, looking happily at the pandas now occupying her toes. "At least I'm not an emo Irish boy."
"WHAT?!" he said, spluttering in utter horror at what had just erupted from Carmela's mouth. She looked smugly at the stuttering boy.
"I HATE YOU!" he cried angrily. "WHY MUST YOU INSULT ME SO?! I CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE GOING ONE DAY WITHOUT BEING VERBALLY ABUSED!" He punched the plush pink sofa that he was forced to place his butt upon while Carmela got her toes painted. Cushioning began to squeeze through the seams.
"Well I think you're physically abusing that poor pink couch," Carmela replied.
"GO CRAWL IN A CORNER, PRAY THAT SOMEBODY FINDS YOU, WHICH THEY WON'T, CRY BECAUSE NOBODY LOVES YOU, AND DIE A HORRIBLE LONELY DEATH BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL ALONE!" Ronan took a deep breath, brooding in his anger. He smacked the couch and prayed that he would escape from this hell-hole alive.
Carmel blinked, staring at Ronan. "That has got to be one of the longest death rants I have ever heard, aside from the pieces of rope ripped into little pieces of rope, turned into a noose, hang outside a bus, and watch as the bleed to death."
Ronan looked up and snickered. "Thanks for the idea." He rubbed his hands together and thought for a moment. "But," he said, taking a breath, refusing to give up on his complaints of 'verbal abuse,' "why are people so mean to me?"
"Because you're easy to make fun of?" Carmela said, taking a stab in the dark.
"Yes that, but why am I so easy to make fun of?" Ronan said, waving his arms in the air. "What's wrong with me? NOTHING, THAT'S WHAT!"
Carmela sighed. Toenails take too long to dry. "Well, for one, all you wear is black….and you have too much of an ego….and you're annoying….and you complain too much….and you look weird….and would you like me to continue about your zit and acne problem, or perhaps the vein in your forehead that shows when you're mad…?"
Ronan's forehead-vein was showing. "JUST HUMOR ME FOR ONE DAY AND BE NICE THAT WAY MY DREAM CAN COME TRUE!"
Carmela snorted, wiggling her toes again. "Do you realize how cheesy that sounds?"
Ronan sat for a minute. "CRAP!"
Carmela snickered and said, "Fine, fine, Captain Cheesy, I won't make fun of you for the rest of the day."
"THANK YOU!" Ronan nearly hugged her.
"…..starting at 11:59 pm…"
"I hate you," he said, attempting to imagine what it would be like to not be insulted for a single 12 hour time limit. But no, it's not even worth dreaming about.