As I walked to the blue tradgedy of a mini-van, I couldn't help but sigh. I'd have to put up with them again. Not saying I don't love and cherish my family of four sisters, four brothers, and two parental figures, just...hehe...they can give the world a migrane. You can't walk anywhere on our forty acres that you won't hear their screams and cries of "dying pain" and yelling over the stupidest things in the entire flippin' world! If that isn't one hundred percent headache, please, deny and give me a perfect example.
Anyways, so once I situate myself all snuggly and comfy in the back of the...car...I put on my headphones and make a desperate attempt to listen to my abnormally satisfying Japanese music. High and Mighty Color if you must know. That's when my brother (NOT step) will give me a random comment on his school day that will give me a garaunteed smile.
I love Bryn; the commenter. He's me little brother. I've grown into the habit of calling him 'otouto-chan' just to let the world know that he's my teeny brother. Bryn's the kind of person that tears your feelings apart. One minute you can't stand him and want to chuck his head into the atlantic ocean and the next you can't live without him. I can never really be mad at him. I feel terrible when I do. Before the most recent Christmas holiday, I never really paid attention to him. When my idol (my BEST sister in the whole world) left the house the whole vacation, and me and Brynny were the only ones in the house while parental figures were gone on a road trip, I realized just how much I did love him. I've tried to appreciate him more after that. I don't want to just forget my little brother again.
Continuing on, while I'm sitting all relaxed and what not, while Bryn is going on with making me laugh, Bret, a stepbrother and younger, will chime in. Bryn will roll his eyes and I'll gently hit my otouto-chan and tell him, "Shut up, Bret's the cutest thing in the world" or at least give him a look that says that.
That's really all that can be said of Bret. The cutest thing in the world. Nutball and cretive genius probably fit in there too. I think everyone I set my gaze upon has a talent for art, 'cuz Bret's headed there too. His mind goes farther than possibilities and to the point where you can't breathe of excess genius. And he's only seven...I'm almost scared for his future.
The drive seems to take forever. It likes its own road trip. I don't really enjoy it all that much. In all truth, it's boring. Brynny and Bret make iti a titch better, until I begin to feel carsick. That's usually when we turn on to our personal roller coaster; Pumpkin Vine Rd. It swirls and swishes in such a way to make one puke. You grow use to it after a while but still...it's nausia on a stick. The ride takes around six minutes, depending on how fast you go, and then we arrive. Down a steep hill where the small country home sits. My dream home. This is where my story begins.