Note: I will continue to repeat until the end of this story, READ INVADER SIDEOS STORIES! This whole thing was HIS idea, I'm just writing it out.
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The clear liquid spilled from the black bottle, splashing on Dib's fingers and foaming. He sucked in a breath at the sizzling pain, wondering how many germs had made their homes in the wreckage of his hands. He had spent the better part of an hour carefully clipping off the remains of his fingernails. Very little was left, but they would grow back in time. The more pressing matter was how to keep them clean.
Biting his lip, he wrapped strips of gauze around each of his fingertips. When finished, he stared at his face in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles. His right cheek had a small twitch and even his shock of sickle hair hung limp.
"Get out of the bathroom, loser!" He cringed. He had saved his skin by promising to do Gaz's chores, but she was still angry about being called a "dirt-child". By the tone of her voice, her day hadn't improved much.
"Just a minute," he called, fumbling with the medical tape.
"No, not just a minute, now! You've been in there for an hour and I have to brush my teeth. Get out!" A heavy thud came at the door, alerting him to how serious his situation was.
You don't have to listen to her.
Smirking, he called, "I'll take all the time I need to. I notice you always take your sweet time when I have to go."
A gutteral growl seeped through the door and chilled his spine, but he forced himself to continue. "So you can just sit yourself down and wait. I'm not done with the banda—"
The door imploded inward, knocking Dib from the counter and dumping the bottle of peroxide all over him. Spluttering, he leapt to his feet only to catch Gaz's fist in his eye. Stunned, he reeled backward as she threw one punch after another; one to the jaw, two to the mouth, one to the gut. Will she stop already? His world exploded with new pain as she brought her foot up between his legs. Hard.
Bend knees, lean back, push off.
In midair his hands found the shower curtain.
Latch on, swing around, jump on.
His feet came down on Gaz's shoulders and she gave a grunt of surprise. They toppled to the floor, her shoulder crunching under his foot.
"Now you've done it, you oaf," she hissed, obviously in pain. "Dad'll have a fit when he hears about it."
Slap!
Her eyes went wide as a trickle of blood seeped from her lip. Satisfaction spread over Dib's face. I've wanted to do that for a long time. Aloud, he said, "He won't hear about it, will he Gazzy?"
Frowning, she struggled to get up. "What do you mean? Of course he—"
Slap!
Her upper lip split, forming a second river of blood down her chin. Her anger wavered, replaced by fear. Tears pooled in her eyes.
Dib froze at the sight. This is my sister, what am I doing! But he had gone too far to back out now. Grimacing, he pulled her roughly to her feet and shook her. "I said, Dad won't hear about it, will he?"
Hatred flashed in her eyes. Utter, complete hatred. She pulled away from him and limped out of the bathroom, muttering, "Whatever."
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They come. Every day they come to inspect. Must pass. If can't pass, can't survive. Two muscular Irkins, they walk down the line with narrowed eyes. Each day the crowd thins by one or two smeets. Will not be one of those that… they stop, they stare. Tense. One nods, and a meaty hand reaches out to grab head.
No! Have not come this far for nothing. Extend spiderlegs, leap for nearest Irkin, knock him on his back. Other one is coming. Hold up spiderleg. Irkin runs into it, it sticks through his belly out his back. Green blood flows down spiderleg, touching arm. Shudder, wrench spiderleg free.
Two red-eyed SIRs approach, what now? Shift into battle mode. One swoops down. Says, "Congratulations, young smeet. You are to be pulled from pre-training to intensive Invader training immediately."
Joy swells. Will never forget this day, the day strength was proved.
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Dib woke to the taste of cotton. Cotton? With a jerk, he realized his pillow was in shreds. Who did—Horrified, he spit wet lumps of cotton from his mouth. I did that? He shook his head. Weird things had been happening. Too weird. Ever since he'd cornered Zim.
Maybe it would have been better if I'd left him alone.
He shook off the thought. He had rid the world of Zim, that was good. Whatever weird things were happening were just the result of some spoiled food he'd eaten, or the ghost child—the ghost child! Dib slapped his forehead and cursed. He'd forgotten about the tormented ghost at school. Hopping out of bed, he set a new personal record dressing for school, packing his backpack, and wolfing down breakfast. Preoccupied as he was with his thoughts, he did not see the fearful, yet furious looks Gaz gave him from across the breakfast table.
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He peeked into the hall, excitement pounding in his veins. He rarely played hooky, but this was important! The ghost might even help him figure out what had been going on with him lately. He slipped into the hall, eyeing the rows of lockers with caution. Glancing at the wall clock, he made a note to keep track of time. It wouldn't do to be caught in the hall during passing periods, it would ruin everything!
He had barely clicked on his tape recorder when he heard it.
Hello, Dib.