"Here are your lists of chores. I expect them to be done by the time I get back at four." My mother didn't even look us in the eye as she pointed out the lists with our names on them, stamped to the refrigerator with magnets. I hadn't slept at all last night, tossing and turning, and from the looks of Michael's state it seems he didn't either. The sunlight was murder on my eyes, and I was constantly squinting even though the blinds weren't open. I rubbed at my eyes, grabbing my list and getting to work.
I was expected to have the bathroom cleaned; including the toilet, the floors mopped and the bathtub scrubbed. The kitchen; dishes done and put away, floors mopped and the table and counters wiped down. Finally, I had to do the laundry and sweep up my grandfather's taxidermy room. Michael had to mow the front yard and back yard and mop the living room and downstairs bathroom, and finally Sam had to wipe down all the windows and walls of fingerprints and organize our grandfather's television guide collection as well as the magnets on the fridge.
We had a long day ahead of us.
None of us spoke to each other, aside from the occaisional 'excuse me' to get past each other while doing our chores. My head was killing me, every minimal movement was like hammering a nail in my skull. I found a pair of my grandfather's sun glasses on the counter, using those to try and shade some of the light out of my poor eyes as I did the dishes. I hoped neither of them would say anything, until I noticed Michael was doing the same - which seemed odd. He hung out with the same crowd... it couldn't be?
By the time we had finished, we were all dead tired; though I was sure I took the cake. I collapsed on the couch, arm thrown across my shaded eyes and an exhausted sigh on my lips. Some time later I was shaken awake, opening my eyes to see it was my mother. "M-mom?" I mumbled, still very much asleep and she nodded, brushing some hair out of my face as she took the glasses off of my face. "Now what are you doing with these things on, it's the middle of the day and you're inside."
I hissed as the light bled through my eyelids, and I covered them. "No, mom - give them back!" I muttered in a grumpy tone, grabbing at the glasses like I was a child. "What is going on with you and Michael? First he starts wearing sunglasses all the time, staying out all night and now you? This is foolish, Sophie." She said lightly, and then I heard it.
The sound of her blood rushing as her temper rised was like a flood. Like the red sea Moses had parted came whooshing back together as it connected. I could hear her heart beat slowly increase, along with her voice drowning out to the sound of her blood that smelled absolutely delicious- NO. OH MY GOODNESS, SOPHIE STOP.
I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick, and so I surged up, murmuring an apology and an excuse as I pushed off of the couch and past my mother, running up the stairs and into the bathroom. Even though I had nothing in the contents of my stomach, red washed up in the sink as I spit out whatever came up. Part of me hoped it was my body rejecting Dwayne's blood, the other part of me feared that it was my own.
"Sophie! Sophie, open the door!" The concerned voice of my mother sounded from the other side, and I groaned. "Mom, I'm fine-" I tried to convince her only to have another bout of blood coming back up. "Open this door right now, young lady or I will have your brother break it down." She threatened, and after I finished and calmed myself down, I made my way toward the door, unlocked it, and sat down against the rim of the tub.
My mother came in, worry clear on her face and I sighed. I hated to make her so anxious - it wasn't good for any of our health. "Sophie, what is going on?" She said, kneeling down and picking up my head by the sides of my face. "Nothing mom, I just-" I had to think of a good lie. One that she would believe. She wouldn't believe that I all of a sudden got a stomach virus if nothing was going around.
"Last night I was hanging out with some friends and they were drinking some sort of red liquor. I got hammered - and now it's all in the sink." Perfect. It would explain the headaches, the light sensitivity, and the vomiting. My mother sighed, but it wasn't of disappointment. It was of relief? "I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant. But still, drinking isn't a smart thing to do at such a young age, Sophie. I thought you knew better."
SHE THOUGHT I WAS WHAT-?
"Come on, you need to get yourself in bed, missy." My mom said, helping me up off of the floor and I moaned in pain from my head. "And this is your punishment, lying in bed all day with a hangover." Good one mom, let me suffer. If only it were a hangover. She helped me to my room and layed me down in my bed. She even closed the blinds for me, but before she left she had this sort of awkward look on her face.
"I just kind of assumed you might want to know... I mean, Michael and I had this talk years ago-" Oh God, oh God no. "Mom - no. Just no, I know where this is going, no." I shook my head, despite the pain, and she raised her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright." She started to close the door.
"So you're sure we don't need to have the talk-"
"Mom!"
