'Wham' Upstairs, I heard the front door slam loudly.

That'd better not mean what I think it does.

Footsteps and another slam, this time from the closet door. Great. He's had another bad day, and I'm gonna be on the receiving end of it. Two more slams. Both from the closet door. Oh boy. He's slamming doors to vent his emotions. Unfortunately, this has several unwanted side effects. 1) It really makes him angrier. 2) I'm gonna have to do more home repair if he breaks the doorknob again, or punches the wall and busts a hole in it, like he did last spring. I really wonder if he knows his own strength. 3) I don't need the distraction. I've got enough homework to keep me busy 'til late tonight, and dealing with his bad mood will NOT get it done quicker.

Uh-oh. There are footsteps coming up the stairs. Very loud footsteps. Yep, he's stomping on every step to try and express his feelings.

Sheesh! I sound like some student counselor, knowing what each of the noises he makes means, at least in the way of his emotions. Actually, I've just been living with him for three years, two of which he's spent as a separate being, so I ought to know him pretty darn well.

Oh joy. I can hear him talking to himself, trying to calm down before he comes in. Mental Note: Find time to clean out Grandpa's old room. Sharing the same room with him is starting to get more than a little weird. After all, I am 17, 18 in a couple of months. NOBODY ELSE MY AGE HAS TO SHARE A BEDROOM WITH ANYONE, LET ALONE THEIR DARK SIDE, THE KING OF GAMES! OR WITH A 5,000 YEAR OLD PHAROAH'S SPIRIT! NO, THEY LIVE ORDINARY LIVES! AND THEY HAVE THEIR OWN BEDROOMS, THEIR OWN BEDS! THEY HAVE RETAINED SOME SCRAPS OF PRIVACY AND SANITY! I HAVE NOT!

'Wham' Well, so much for the new coat of paint I put on the walls last weekend. That last door slam chipped it.

Okay. Calm down Yugi. Yelling at him won't help. BUT HE JUST MESSED UP THE PAINT JOB I SPENT SIX HOURS, MY ENTIRE SATURDAY AFTERNOON, WORKING ON!!!! AAARRRGGHHH!

'Crash' Unless I am very much mistaken, that was the jar of pens and pencils he's spent a year and a half collecting. Well, at least he'll be kept busy counting and recounting the 600 and some odd pencils. 'Whump' Hmmm...that's a new one. Actually, I think he just fell face first onto the bottom bunk of our double-decker beds. Yup. I just turned around to look. Just a random thought, but how is he gonna breathe like that?

"Working on homework Yugi?" he asks, his voice more than a little muffled by the bedspread his face is in. "Mm-hm." "How much?"

Jeez! How long is he gonna keep up this calm act? By the sound of his overly muffled voice, he's going to crack any moment now. Oh, why do-

"I asked you a question! Why don't you answer!? Why aren't you answering me?! Yugi?!" The boy on the bed got up very quickly. "HOW MUCH HOMEWORK? TELL ME!"

Okay. If I tell him, he will either start raving about the teachers, or he'll start yelling about how "schoolwork was done in school, rather than at home when the student should be spending time with his family." That's how it was done in "my day" and he still sticks to this theory. If I don't tell him, he'll keep screaming until I get mad, then he'll storm out of the room again.

"I'm waiting Yugi! Why haven't you said anything!?" "Ummm...47 equations for Trig, essay for English, vocab for German, report on American history for World Studies, aaaannnnd... um...er...oh, yeah, a sketch for Art." "All that!? When I was schooled in Egypt, we did our learning in school, not at home!" He continued, until I got fed up with it.

"YAMI! JUST BE QUIET AND STOP BOTHERING ME! I HAVE A LOT TO DO AND THE LAST THING I NEED IS ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR 'BACK WHEN' LECTURES!" "FINE! THINGS WERE A LOT BETTER THEN! CHILDREN DIDN'T SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO!" "INCASE YOU HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN, IN THIS TIME AND PLACE, I'M OLDER THAN YOU BY A FULL EIGHT MONTHS, SO I WOULDN'T BE TALKING ABOUT WHO IS OR ISN'T A CHILD!"