It was finally the night of the big concert. I was actually jumping around
more than Megan. As soon as I realized that, I stopped immediately.
No matter how many times I checked the clock, or asked "Can we go, PLEASE?" it was always hold on a 'sec', another one of Megan's shortened words. I guessed that she must have had a lot of free time on her hands, because whenever she was very happy, she called my Vicky.
My new nickname HAD to start tonight. I was changing out of outfit to outfit. Nothing I had seemed to look good on me. Megan, as usual, had to put on the WORST outfit for the occasion. She came into my room while I was trying to see if my pearl white blouse, charcoal gray skirt, and crimson jacket would match.
Of course it looked what Megan would call 'doofy' on me, so I had to dig through and find something else. Megan came to my room, as usual without knocking, and she had that stupid smirk on her face.
"What now, Megan?" I moaned. Couldn't she see that I was busy?
"Oh, Vicky!" she moaned.
"Don't EVER call me that again!" I screamed at her. When she was younger, she used to call me Vicky. Now, she just did it when she was happy. But she didn't seem happy. I felt like smiling. Megan unhappy was one of the best days. Usually, she would just leave me alone.
"You've gotta help me!" Good God.
"Why should I help you?"
"Cuz I'm your sister!" she wailed. How pitiful.
"You were fine a few seconds ago. What's wrong with you?"
"Come look!" she pointed to her bedroom door.
"What, is the door gonna attack you or something?" I teased.
"It's in my room!" she shrieked. I rolled my eyes at her. In her room? I guessed that it was a bug or a mouse or something. "Oh, whatever could it be?" I asked, half knowing and half wanting to know.
"I-it's horrible!"
"What is?" I was getting fed up and I still needed to find something to wear!
"Come look," she gestured for me to follow her. I sighed and went into 'the doom room'.
As I walked through the doors (notice the 's' while I only have a door), I saw something that took my breath away. There, in the midst of my sister's messy room, was . . .
"A dead human body!" I shrieked and grabbed my heart. "Megan . . . what the hell . . . ?"
"I told you!" Megan cried, "I told you!"
I tried to back up and leave the room, but I tripped on something and fell back. Suddenly, I heard Megan's doors close. And lock. "Megan, do you have a key!" I screamed.
Megan started yelling for help. I ran to her window and waited. Five minutes later, I saw my father ushering my mother into the limo. "Wait!" I yelled and tried to open Megan's window, but it was also locked.
"Oh, God!" I cried (well, not with tears, but I was moaning), "It was bad when I got locked up in this - this hellhole, but I'm going to miss the recital!" I fell back on Megan's bed, which I quickly realized that she had jumped on because it had sunk in.
"Don't have a baby, Vicky-toria,"
"I glared at her, "You would say that. You don't have a BIG IMPORTANT SOLO THAT COULD GET YOU OUT OF THIS DUMP NOW DO YOU?"
She cowered in front of me, "Sorry," she said. I looked at her and for the first time in a long time I felt the need I had to say something other than yelling at her. "I'm sorry, too," I replied.
I looked around her room, "So what have you got to do around here?"
No matter how many times I checked the clock, or asked "Can we go, PLEASE?" it was always hold on a 'sec', another one of Megan's shortened words. I guessed that she must have had a lot of free time on her hands, because whenever she was very happy, she called my Vicky.
My new nickname HAD to start tonight. I was changing out of outfit to outfit. Nothing I had seemed to look good on me. Megan, as usual, had to put on the WORST outfit for the occasion. She came into my room while I was trying to see if my pearl white blouse, charcoal gray skirt, and crimson jacket would match.
Of course it looked what Megan would call 'doofy' on me, so I had to dig through and find something else. Megan came to my room, as usual without knocking, and she had that stupid smirk on her face.
"What now, Megan?" I moaned. Couldn't she see that I was busy?
"Oh, Vicky!" she moaned.
"Don't EVER call me that again!" I screamed at her. When she was younger, she used to call me Vicky. Now, she just did it when she was happy. But she didn't seem happy. I felt like smiling. Megan unhappy was one of the best days. Usually, she would just leave me alone.
"You've gotta help me!" Good God.
"Why should I help you?"
"Cuz I'm your sister!" she wailed. How pitiful.
"You were fine a few seconds ago. What's wrong with you?"
"Come look!" she pointed to her bedroom door.
"What, is the door gonna attack you or something?" I teased.
"It's in my room!" she shrieked. I rolled my eyes at her. In her room? I guessed that it was a bug or a mouse or something. "Oh, whatever could it be?" I asked, half knowing and half wanting to know.
"I-it's horrible!"
"What is?" I was getting fed up and I still needed to find something to wear!
"Come look," she gestured for me to follow her. I sighed and went into 'the doom room'.
As I walked through the doors (notice the 's' while I only have a door), I saw something that took my breath away. There, in the midst of my sister's messy room, was . . .
"A dead human body!" I shrieked and grabbed my heart. "Megan . . . what the hell . . . ?"
"I told you!" Megan cried, "I told you!"
I tried to back up and leave the room, but I tripped on something and fell back. Suddenly, I heard Megan's doors close. And lock. "Megan, do you have a key!" I screamed.
Megan started yelling for help. I ran to her window and waited. Five minutes later, I saw my father ushering my mother into the limo. "Wait!" I yelled and tried to open Megan's window, but it was also locked.
"Oh, God!" I cried (well, not with tears, but I was moaning), "It was bad when I got locked up in this - this hellhole, but I'm going to miss the recital!" I fell back on Megan's bed, which I quickly realized that she had jumped on because it had sunk in.
"Don't have a baby, Vicky-toria,"
"I glared at her, "You would say that. You don't have a BIG IMPORTANT SOLO THAT COULD GET YOU OUT OF THIS DUMP NOW DO YOU?"
She cowered in front of me, "Sorry," she said. I looked at her and for the first time in a long time I felt the need I had to say something other than yelling at her. "I'm sorry, too," I replied.
I looked around her room, "So what have you got to do around here?"