"No, Michael. I'm not an idiot" Kathleen sighed into the phone's receiver. She'd been in a call with her brother since earlier in the morning, arguing with him. The argument topics had become blurred within the first hour, and now all Kathleen could think to say were soft sighs and mild disagreements.

Michael was the type of person who revelled in confrontation, this trait making him, her least favourite sibling. He could go on for hours –like we was now—with debates that were meant to lower someone's self esteem and boost his own.

"Then why can't you use that brain of yours?" Michael's voice was set in its usual deep baritone rasp. Kathleen's light brown eyes rolled and landed on the remote controller that rested on the dining room table, on top of the stolen envelope. She'd forgotten all about the controller until now. "Look Kathy, I think you should just stop by and we can talk properly about this"

"What?" Kathleen finally caught onto the conversation, "talk about what?"

"Are you ignoring me?" Michael hissed, "Jesus Kathy! This is exactly why you can't hold down a job! You don't listen!"

"Oh, so that's what we're arguing about," Kathleen hummed and tried desperately to keep the smile and frustration out of her voice, "I've already told you, they're just not the proper jobs for me. It's always the same thing, day in and day out. What good can I do the world by sitting around answering calls?"

Michael huffed loudly on the other line of the phone, no doubt running a hand through his thick ginger locks. "And what good do you do the world by sitting in a flat that I pay for, doing nothing?"

Kathleen knew it was a cheap shot but her mind was distracted by the remote as she picked it up and circled the bottom button in the circle of four. She was tired of having a conversation with her brother about work, and the flat he rented out for her to live in.

"Look," She started, pressing a random button on the remote, "Michael. I'll pay you back the rent soon. I'll have the money"

"And how will you have the money with no job?"

"I'll find one!" she snapped in exasperation. "By the end of the month you'll have your money." Michael made a noise of disbelief on the other side but chose not to speak for once in his life. "I'll call you later" Kathleen finished the conversation abruptly and hung up.

Sighing loudly she stared down at the remote in her hand. What good was a remote controller? Tossing the black piece of equipment to the table she stood up and stretched, looking over to her fridge and wondering if she should bake something to take her mind off of Michael. With the phone still in hand she opened the fridge's door, placed the device inside and exchanged it with a carton of skim milk. It wasn't her favourite choice, but it was the cheaper option when she last went grocery shopping. Filling up a glass with the white liquid, Kathleen took long sips as she kicked the fridge closed and moved into the medium sized living room. She didn't have any furniture in the room, which helped the area appear much larger than it truly was, except for a tiny television that sat in the corner by the window sill.

Dust was collecting on the window sill, a testament to how often the room was maintained and occupied. Kathleen took a spot on the hardwood floor, leaning forward to flip the knob on the television and bring the electronic screen to life. Continuing to take leisurely sips at her glass of milk, she watched a few commercials before deciding to channel surf. It wasn't easy finding something to watch at two in the afternoon. Letting out a long breath she settled on the news station, barely taking in the new reports of a children's charity reaching their donation goals. The reporters bickered back and forth for another ten minutes before a "breaking bulletin" came up about a few pedestrians involved in a small bomb explosion just inside the city.

Leaning up onto the palms of her hands Kathleen stared with a new interest as the reporter gushed for the three casualties and spoke about the police's investigation on the matter. She couldn't help but feel a tingle in the back of her mind that stretched to the remote control on her dining room table.

"It's impossible" she told herself, before swivelling on the floor as she heard her phone ring from inside the fridge. Leaving the milk behind on the floor she went to retrieve the ringing device, wincing at the shrill tones of her ring tone and the name that flashed across the screen. "What?" She snapped into the phone.

"I was just thinking," Michael's voice cut back into her ear, "You need a job and I've got a friend who owes me a favour. She needs someone to—"

"Michael, I can find a job on my own" Kathleen cut in, rubbing at her tiny jaw. "Why can't you let this be?"

Michael scoffed on the other line, for he as the older brother by a nine year age difference, knew better than his sister. "Because, Kathleen Gray, I've known you long enough to understand that if you aren't pushed into something, you'll most likely never do anything!"

Kathleen pursed her lips at her brother's words, and narrowed her heavy lidded almond eyes. "Where is this job, who with, and doing what?" She finally caved.

"Her name is Sarah Sawyer; it's down at the hospital. Not too far a walk away for you and you'll just be checking in patients. It's not that hard, and besides, with all the different people coming in I'm sure you won't become too bored with a routine"

"Are you forgetting my fear of blood, Michael?" She could just picture the frown on her brother's face as she replied. "How the hell am I supposed to be around a place that deals with blood, ninety percent of the time?"

"You'll learn," He rebuffed her. "Now, I'll give her a call tonight and set you up a meeting. I'll send you a text with the date and time. Do not miss it for the world!"

"Got it" she grumbled much like a younger sister would to their older sibling. Grinding her teeth together, Kathleen ran a hand through her fluffy bangs that rested straight across her forehead. It was an attempt at forgetting just who she was on the phone with.

"I'd also like to talk to you about family dinner this Thursday. We're having it at Charles' flat; he's decided he's going to become some chef and wants to practice with us. I doubt he's going to get anything done though. Mum will probably take over once he burns everything" Michael rambled.

"Charles is a good cook," Kathleen tried to defend the second Wright child, "He knows his way around a turkey!"

The deep voice of her brother snorted through the phone lines unattractively. "Oh yes, the Christmas two years ago when he tried to make some awful honey glazed turkey! That was certainly tasty"

She flushed in embarrassment when she recalled the event. Charles, who at the time had let his hair grow long, had been trying to coat the turkey in a fresh coat of honey only to get most of it in his hair and half of it on the turkey. They'd later found strands of his hair in the fresh meat, though no one mentioned anything to him as they picked it out silently.

"We'll just buy him a hair net..." Michael scoffed at the idea but allowed his sister to continue. "He's cut it all short now anyway, so I doubt we have to worry about anymore hair"

"Right: Well, I do hope you show up this time. The dinner will be around seven, if everything goes smoothly. I'll be bringing along Wendy—"

"Who's Wendy?"

"New girlfriend," Michael disregarded her question quickly, "And Joanne will be driving in just a few hours earlier." Kathleen nodded along even though he couldn't see her. "And we should expect you at what time?"

"I'll try to get there early, but you never know with traffic..."

"Right, so you'll be late; off trying to find some hidden meaning in a book or stalking someone to their own family dinners, just to miss your own. Correct?"

"I never miss family dinner" Kathleen ground out, "Michael, I'll be there. I won't be late, I'll have your bloody money and—and just let it lie. I'm going to hang up now, I have things to do." With a hard jab at the 'end call' button, Kathleen stalked back to the living room to finish off her glass of remaining milk.

She shouldn't have answered the call to begin with. She knew it would have been Michael with something to tell her, he always had to call people twice. It was some annoying habit he'd developed the minute he learned to use a telephone. There was always some excuse to call back, and just another to keep talking. Kathleen figured he just loved the sound of his voice a bit too much.

Finishing the glass of milk, she shut the television off and dropped the glass back into the sink before skulking into her bedroom. It was another wasted day, one summed up with telephone calls to her brother and sleep. She supposed she really was a boring person after all. Maybe she did take after her family members.