Discalimer: Why would anyone think I own anything? I'm poor as shit.
Warning: I like cuss words and having Dib say cuss words.
Ch. 3: Damn, that hurts!
~Dib~
-insert annoying alarm clock sound-
I slam my hand down on my clock and roll over. I hate mornings. Especially when all of my dreams are interrupted by him, that little green demon. The constant brooding over him has jammed all my conscious and unconscious thoughts with Zim and his idiotic idiotness. He's so dumb, I mean, if I was an alien I would have had this pitiful world conquered long ago. Zim's been here for years. I actually think he's starting to like it. Ugh, just imagining being stuck with him forever hurts my head.
-insert annoying alarm clock sound-
Argh. Stupid Skool, stupid mornings, stupid Zim! Stupid snooze button about to make me late, again. I open my eyes to the blurry image of my room, I put my hand on what I assume is the nightstand. Nothing. Where are they? Where are my glasses? Then it hits me like a ton of bricks, I don't wear glasses anymore. I know most people keep their glasses when they get contacts, but once the need to have them practically glued to my face all the time was gone, so were they. I didn't throw them away, I just sorta, y'know, misplaced them. I've been losing things a lot lately.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and step out onto the sea of what could be carpet or clothing. Damn, I hate having the worst eyesight ever. Stretching my arms out in front of me I fumble around until I find the doorway. The bathroom has got to be around here somewhere, but where? I would hate to be legally blind, though I'm already pretty damn close. My shoulder bumps the wall, hard. Ouch. Goddammit, where the hell is the bathroom. My hand brushes a door frame, aha! I stumble into the 'bathroom', wait, this doesn't feel like the bathroom. But the only other room near mine is... Gaz's. Oh shit.
"You better have a good reason for even breathing near my room," I turn around to see the purple blob that is my sister, the spawn of Satan.
"Before you kill me, I do! I can't see," I wave my hands around in front of me and what I think is her face, it could easily be a pig or something, fuck being blind! "See, blind as a bat, can you direct me to the restroom?"
The blob shoves me roughly to the right, I just barely hear her mutter the word 'idiot' before I continue my uncertain path. When did the bathroom get so far from my room? Cautiously I touch the wall, my fingers find another doorway and grip the frame uncertainly. This is the bathroom. I know it is, right?
I poke my head around the corner and sniff. Familiar bathroom scents fill my nose, I try not to gag. We really should clean this place more often. I step over the threshold, only tripping a little, not enough to fall flat on my face. Now, to find my contacts case. I swear to God, if Gaz hid it I'm going to... to... do nothing. She scares me.
My hip comes in contact with the counter and I grope around for the case. Something sharp nicks my finger. Augh! Oww, damn. I put my finger in my mouth, tangy blood pours out of the new cut. Damn, damn, damn. I need to find that case!
"Here," a familiar, albeit terrifying, voice says from somewhere behind me. I turn to the purple blob that could be Barney or my sister, I can't really tell. "This was in your room, dumb ass," she pushes a small rectangle into my hand. My contacts!
"Thanks Gaz!" I try to hug her, but end up grabbing air and getting smacked in the back of the head. By the time I recover from that little mistake, the blob is gone. I guess she's not so bad. But damn, they were in my room all along. I shouldn't have gotten contacts. That was my first mistake, but I needed to put this plan in motion, I'm tired of waiting for Zim to make the first move, I have to end this little feud once and for all.
I turn back to the mirror,or wall, whatever. Opening the rectangle I touch my not bleeding finger to a squishy contact. Slowly I bring my finger to my eye. This still hurts, then again I've only been wearing them for three days now, but I doubt I'll ever get used to poking myself in the eye every damn day. The contact goes in and half of my vision clears. Sight, how wonderful! The ability to see is a marvelous thing. The other contact doesn't go in as smoothly, shit that burns! My eyes water, but at least I can see.
I glance in the mirror, I guess I don't really look that different. After wearing glasses my whole life I didn't even notice them anymore. It's odd seeing my eyes without a thick layer of glass in the way. It's kinda nice. A few girls at school even said I looked hot, now that I don't have those dorky glasses. Personally, I liked them, they were comforting, a part of my identity, a thing that made me, that defined me. I shrug my shoulders in the mirror, what the hell, if having contacts helps the plan, than contacts it is. Now I have to do something about the lack of muscle tone I think, flexing my arm. Eh, at least I have a cute face. Before I forget I slap a Band-Aid onto my still bleeding finger, that cut was sorta deep.
I finish getting ready, same old outfit, same old trench coat, all just a little bigger. I take the stairs two at a time, wishing I was still small enough to slide down the railing without damaging my manhood. Ouch. Puberty may have been slow to hit me, but once it did, I wished it hadn't. Growing up kinda sucks. I miss the playground, walking to Skool with Gaz, and the Swollen Eyeball. It really blows they got broken up by the FBI for being a suspected cult. Hey, at least nobody drank the Kool-Aid! Ha.
When I get to the kitchen Gaz is already scarfing the last of the cereal. I guess I won't be eating breakfast, I wouldn't dare touch Dad's newest Super Toast. I don't want to lose any fingers or my voice box today. I wave bye to Gaz, she growls in return. I grab my bag and my keys off the rack by the door and head out. Thank God Dad got me a car for my sixteenth birthday, it may be a junker but it gets the job done, most of the time. I only had to push it once, or twice, okay maybe more than that. You'd think with the amount he makes I'd get a nice little sports car, but no! Gaz got one. A little purple Porsche. Ungrateful little arrgh.
I shouldn't complain, at least I got a set of wheels. A little black junker, named M.I.B., or 'Man in Black'. It's my alien hunting mobile, so it has to have a snazzy name. Pfft. It wouldn't be able to catch a crippled snail riding on the back of a half dead turtle. I climb in and turn the key. M.I.B. gives a few pitiful sputters then roars to life. If only he packed this much punch the whole time.
I pull out of the driveway, almost stall, then turn the corner. Oh M.I.B., what would I do without you? Make it to Skool a hell of a lot faster, that's for sure. Ha. It's better than walking. Even if my car's twenty years older than me. I wish I could fix up Tak's ship again, it would be so much better. M.I.B. putters to a stop in the entrance to the Skool parking lot, shit. He knew I was thinking bad thoughts about him. Piece of shit. I pump the accelerator, then start it again, come on, cooome on. Success! M.I.B. floors it the last twenty feet to my parking space, then screeches to a halt. We made it, to another day of hell.
I spot him out of the corner of my eye. Zim. He's sitting on the front steps, looking down at his wrist computer. He's up to something. I can smell the gears moving in his foul little head. He's plotting something. Something evilly stupid. But it won't stop me, he'll never stop me this time. I open my door and gracefully (ha, I couldn't be graceful if I tried) step out. He looks up, his eyes lock onto mine. His narrow suspiciously, mine narrow suggestively, at least I hope it looks suggestive, and I flash him a smile. He scowls and turns away. How dare he not drink in this wonderful eye candy. Prick.
I head toward the stairs, swinging my hips slightly. Unfortunately, Zita walks up next to me.
"Hey there Dib," She purs, leaning closer to me, "I never got the chance to say it, but I like the new look, it's nice."
"Uh, thanks," I try to shrug her off, but she sticks like piece of tape that just won't get off my damn finger.
"You're very welcome, so, uhm, are you busy tonight?"
I'm not, but I don't let her know. I'm not the biggest fan of Zita, she was always the first to suggest my little trips to the Crazy House for Boys. "Yeah, Zita, I am," I say, a little more sting to my words than I intended, memories of my 'happy trips' bore into my brain like angry weasels.
"Oh, that's cool. I'll see you later then," she walks away, icy composer replacing flirty advances. Yeah, walk away. Wanna send me to the Crazy House again? I wanna yell after her, but bite my tongue. I have to focus on Zim and my little mission. I look back at the steps. He's gone. Where the fuck? The little shit is sneakier than I thought!
"Hello, Dib," a voice says behind me. What is with people and sneaking up behind me today? The voice takes a minute to register in my brain, it's him.
I turn, he's a whole head shorter than me, I have to look down to meet his eyes. That pisses him off, I can see in his contact covered stare. Ha. Score one for the human, at least I get taller when I get older, he's gonna be short forever. I wish I could be another foot taller than him, but regrettably I'm done growing.
"Hey there," I try to use the same tone Zita had used on me a minute ago. I think it sounds okay. He shudders slightly, almost unnoticably, but my Zim sensitive eyes caught it.
"So, Dib, how are you today?" he really sucks at being nice, his eye's even twitching. He can't handle this. Ha. Controlling his emotions must be difficult for him, score two for the human. Controlling emotions is like second nature to me, all those years of pretending like I like the people around me has finally paid off.
"Good, and what about you?" I lean a little closer, he doesn't move. Damn.
"An absolutely wonderful, normal Earth morning," he smiles, showing more teeth than necessary. Kinda cute, in a creepy way. Nope, ignore that last thought.
"That's nice," time to lay on the charm, "So, wanna walk to class with me?" This catches him off guard. He's still not used to my blatant advances.
"Of course, Dib," he says through gritted teeth, this is hurting him more than I thought it would. I like it. I turn and he steps into place beside me. His steps are stiff, almost like he's marching. Step number one accomplished. Now for step number two.
Okay, that's all you get for now kiddies. That's a good 2,000 words, actually 2,014 words. Mmm, dialogue, it's painful to write. So,what do you think step two is? I dunno, help me figure it out. I love suggestions. Oh, and Captor of the Crazies, sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me ;D
Someone once told me my paragraphs were too long, I tried to shorten them. Did I do it right? Is it easy to read and understand? Beta anyone?
Oh, in ch.1 did I forget to mention there's a link to my own drawing for this story on my profile? I'm kinda forgetful like that. . It's there though.
Hmm. I think I used 'I' way to many times in this chapter.