Bunk Bed
"Henry, I don't like this."
Henry turned over, flinging the shabby blanket aside. He hung his head over the edge of the bed, and looked down at his brother. "Sam, what is it?" he whispered tiredly.
The boy sat up, and slid to the edge of his mattress. He let his legs dangle off of the bedframe, and he swung them back and forth for a moment. As he let his toes graze the cold floor, Sam looked up at his brother. "I feel like I'm going to get crushed, Henry," he whispered back.
"Sam, I'm too tired for this," Henry murmured as he rubbed his eyes with his hand. He lifted his head back up, and came to a seated position in the middle of his own mattress. "Go to sleep."
"Well, I'm sorry, but this is slightly terrifying," he retorted.
Henry lay back on the bed with a sigh and directed his gaze toward the ceiling. "It's a bunk bed, Sam," he chuckled, "not a steam roller."
"Yeah, but how old do you think this thing is?" Sam asked. He knocked on one of the supporting beams, and the metal created a hollow ring that echoed through the room.
"You're gonna have to get used to these conditions," Henry replied as he stared at the cracking paint above him. "This is a palace compared to most places." He crossed his arms behind his head. "And when we catch up with the others, they just might have bunk beds too." He smiled. "Better to prepare yourself now."
"Oh, come on, Henry, you're heavier. Am I supposed to sit here, listening to this thing creak all night?"
"I guess so," Henry murmured as he rolled over, "Because I'm sure as hell not sleeping down there."
"Gee, thanks," the younger brother snickered before falling silent.
Henry continued studying the paint on the ceiling. Occasionally, a piece flaked off and drifted to the floor. At least Sam didn't have to worry about dried paint falling into his mouth while he slept, he thought. A cross-breeze drifted through the room (a by-product of the window they broke to get in), and he shivered a bit. As he tucked his arms under the blanket, he noted his brother's silence. "Sam?" he whispered curiously. He was answered by soft, heavy breathing. Henry sat up again, and swung his head over the edge of the top bunk. Sam was sitting up, grinning.
"I told you. I'll sit here all night. You didn't actually think I'd fall asleep, did you?"
Henry matched his brother's grin, then climbed down. "Go ahead, your highness," he said, gesturing to the top bunk. "But you're sleeping down here tomorrow."