A/N: Okay, well, I haven't updated in a while. That's obvious. So here's the next extremely late chapter. I feel guilty about it being so short considering that I haven't written anything on it in a while, but… ya, I don't really have much of an excuse for that. I'll try to get the next chapter up a lot faster. (By a lot, I mean a LOT) So read, enjoy, and let me know what you think of it!
"Chet! Brett! You boys better be getting back inside now, y'hear?" I called out into the quickly falling darkness of the fields. Those boys were going to be the death of their poor mama. What were they doing out at this hour anyway?
"Chet!"
"What?" The question came from no more than a meter away, but I wasn't about to let their close proximity ruin my recent pleasure in screaming at them.
"What are you doing out at this time o' night! Curfew was hours ago!"
"But mama, we don't got a curfew," Brett answered logically. I still didn't care. I placed a sweet lilt in my voice as I answered him. That always seemed to work the best when I wanted them scared.
"It doesn't matter if you've got one or not, honey, you better be getting yourselves right back in the house now if you want to sleep in your own beds instead of the barn loft with the chickens." That got 'em. They scurried right through the door like a rabid hound was on their tails. Yep, that's the way t' handle 'em. I slammed the door shut as I turned back into our small farmhouse. Even though we barely made enough to survive on, the decor was rather lavish. I'm a lavish-loving woman, so I absolutely must have my furs. At least I didn't have an extra mouth to feed anymore. Not that little Oncie ate much anyway, but at least his absence was an improvement.
I sat down at the kitchen table, inspecting my nails as the boys ran up to their respective rooms. The quiet of the night was peaceful; the only sound that bothered to grate on my eardrums was those damn crickets chirping. I sat reveling in my calm when there came a sharp, tired knock at the door. Who would be calling at this hour? Maybe it was just another stray cat to scare off. A lot o' those seemed to come 'round lately. I stood grudgingly from my comfortable chair and made my way over to the door.
I opened it. There was no one there, so I slammed it once again. Not two seconds later came another knock. All right, I couldn't have heard wrong twice. I swung open the door, glaring straight out into the night. Still no one there. I felt a light tug on the cuff of my jeans. Looking down, I shrieked at the top of my lungs, calling for my boys to come down and get rid of that... thing! I threw the door closed at Brett and Chet came running down the stairs, half in a panic. They swung the door back open, bursting outside, and I could hear the scuffling of feet and the yells of the furry orange creature that had dared to taint my home with his... oddness as they chucked it back out into the night.
Chet walked back in with a grin plastered to his features as Brett followed. They swiped their hands on their jeans in a mock action of wiping them off, then wandered back upstairs. Well, that would teach the orange thing a lesson. It only took the boys a couple of weeks to learn to fear my wrath. Animals usually learned a lot faster. I was just settling down when another knock sounded at the door. It couldn't be. I slowly made my way over, cautiously turning the knob. I didn't expect the sudden shove as the door moved inwards, pushing me back. The orange thing stormed into the house, covered in mud and fuming.
"Now you listen here, lady..." he sputtered at me. What an impish little brat!
"Get out of my house this minute you blasted creature! How highly do you think of yourself just to run in here like you own the place? This is my house, and you got no right to be here! Get out!" The orange creature blinked at me, mouth half open as the words caught in his throat. I was proud of myself for creating such a reaction, but I kept my features molded into a look of fury as I pointed to the open door. The creature blinked again, this time adopting a calm, almost smug expression.
"How highly do you think of yourself, lady?" He asked, crossing his arms. I was taken aback at such an impudent suggestion. I stood dumbly for a minute or two before regaining my previous mindset.
"GET OUT!" I screamed. This brought Brett and Chet running back down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to take in the scene, unsure of how to react. The orange creature stood for a moment, sizing me up. This just made me even more furious.
"Your kid's sick." He said simply. All anger vanished, instantly replaced by confusion.
"What?"