"TARA! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

3:00 AM.

Mom was awake and soon would be the whole house, if not the whole neighborhood. Mom had this tendency to not go to bed unless the house was the way she wanted it to be; completely 100% clean. God helped anyone trying to go to sleep while leaving one piece of garbage behind or something out of place. She wanted everything neat and tidy, every single day.

"Mom, what the hell...?" Tara said. I unwillingly listened to their conversation, burying my face into the bed and pressing my pillow over it, holding it down by each end, trying to get back to sleep.

"What did I tell you about leaving soda cans over the counter, missy?!"

"I was gonna get rid of it tomorrow..."

"No! After you use anything, you throw the litter in the trash! I don't want it anywhere else, not for a single minute! I've told you this since you were a little girl, Tara."

Tara, courteous of others, didn't prolong the conversation any longer, "...Sorry mom. I won't do it again. I promise."

"Good. Now get back to bed. Goodnight." Mom said, beginning to head to her room, "Love you."

"Love you too." Tara shut her door. I could finally rest my head over my pillow again.

Mom is a wonderful lady, but she really knew to be spiteful too. Ever since dad left the house, she never really were the same person. Tara says she ended up borrowing some stuff from dad. I disagree. Mom is much better than dad, she's just very bossy and doesn't really properly think about others when she's in these moods. I mean, waking up everyone late at night over a soda can? Come on.

I felt bad for grandpa Jones. Jones slept in the guest room just next to my sister's. He was treated much like the same way Tara and I were; like children. While she had much more respect and care for him, she still would yell at him from time to time. I found it...disgusting, quite honestly. No way to treat your sick father.

And Jones...he just sits there, looking at her. He doesn't talk, he doesn't even show anything in his face. I feel bad for him. He's bottling up so much in his chest and I can feel it myself. I say nothing whenever she does it, as to not escalate things.

I simply laid on my side, closing my eyes and sighing. Tara...she's such a good sister. Her and I do our best to be good children to our mom and good grandchildren to our grandfather. Yet...we barely feel any feedback from them. As you grow older, it feels like you get dull and duller, angry and angrier...perhaps we haven't reached that point yet.

Perhaps, we're still just too young.

I fell asleep seconds later.

BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP!

My alarm clock rung out at 8:00 AM. The Star Fox QnA was scheduled just two hours from now on. I pushed that snooze button and got right up quickly. A little too quickly.

As I walked to my door, I felt myself going lightheaded. I took in a few breaths as I stumbled against the door, opening it and heading straight for the bathroom. Right away, I threw some water onto my face and reached for my toothbrush and toothpaste.

I was working fast. I didn't want to miss this event, not even if an arm and a leg would cost me it. Ten years I had waited for this moment, of seeing my idols right in front of me. God, the last time I saw them, my dad still was sleeping the room next to the bathroom's.

I spat out the toothpaste, got out of the bathroom and back into my room, switching out of my pajamas and going for whatever fresh clothes I saw first. Soon, I had a black hoodie on with a yellow tee underneath, gray jeans and red sneakers.

I rushed downstairs, feet thudding against the steps. My mom yelled at me from the kitchen.

"CHASE!" She appeared at the doorway, "What'd I tell you about running in the house?!"

"Sorry, mom!" I said as I reached the last step, going past her and into the kitchen. She held me by the back of my hoodie.

"And where do you think you're going? Breakfast isn't ready yet. You're waiting an hour and a half."

"An hour and a half? Mom, I'm gonna be late for the QnA! The line will be gigantic, I gotta get there as soon as I can!"

"That ain't nothing of my concern now, is it?" She gave me that look. That sleep deprived look she'd give me since I were younger, "You wait for your food. You're not going anywhere until you're done with it."

Without any further words, she went back to the counter to continue preparing meals for the rest of us. Soup for grandpa, diet sandwich for my sister, toast with peanut butter for me and whatever she'd get for herself.

I simply took some steps back and sighed, heading back upstairs slowly. As I reach the top, I see my sister coming out of grandpa's room with him on his wheelchair, taking him to the bathroom, "Hey sis." I said to her.

"Hey Chase." She smiled to me. Grandpa looked to me, then back to the bathroom as he were pushed into it, "Big day today, huh?" She chuckled, "Excuse me for a bit."

"No rush." I responded, watching her enter the bathroom. I went into my bedroom, sitting at my desk and booting up my computer. I could put more work into that story of mine.

Silly me. I spent so much time into it yesterday I hadn't even gave it a name. Let's go with...

Out Of This World! Nah, too cliché. Alternate Dimensions? Too standard and direct. Cosmic Raiders? There's probably already a game with that name...hm.

I was having trouble with names. It seemed that whenever my creativity would be required, it'd smash into a brick wall. The pains of being a writer.

How about...Urgh. Urgh? Urgh would be an interesting name. Doesn't mean anything, but, it'd be unusual. And people love the unusual.

I've decided that, for now, I'd name my story Urgh.

Knock knock knock knock

"Bro, can I have a word with you?" Tara asked behind the door. I looked over my shoulder, shifting on my plastic chair.

"Yeah, come on in." I told her. She opened my door and came right in.

"Hey hey," she said, "mind if I sit on one of your bean bags?"

"Nope, go right ahead." I stood up, turning my plastic chair around and sitting on it once more, looking to her, "...What's up?"

"Well..." She laid back on my bean bag. I had three of them, one of each color. Orange, green and blue, "...How have you been feeling?"

"..." I shifted my eyes around, "...Hm?"

"How have you been, Chase?" She repeated her question, "Lately, you've seem rather...distant. Not like, grandpa distant, but, you know...far. I think you've been overworking yourself with your stories, bro."

I blew a raspberry, "That's nonsense, Tara. I love writing. It's my passion. My only useful one."

"I know...but you've been stressed, haven't you? Anyone would be stressed as they realize their works are...well, not going anywhere they want it to be."

"Of course, I've been stressed, silly, it's part of being a writer. The feeling of actually writing something I want and having it be a success will be the final, massively gratifying reward, as you said yesterday."

"Yeah...but..." Her gaze drifted away, "...what if that never happens, Chase?"

I tilted my head, furrowed my brows. Deep inside of me, I felt...curious. Somewhat taken back, "...What are you talking about, Tara?"

"Don't get me wrong, Chase. You got potential. But, I've come to learn that potential...doesn't always lead to what you want. Writing is for you...but maybe not in the way you think."

There was a brief silence. I felt...insulted, "...Are you doubting me, Tara?"

"No, Chase, absolutely not. I'm just saying that you should focus on other things besides writing. Maybe a new hobby. You're a good writer, but, nothing is coming out of that."

"Tara, writing is my passion. My only...my only useful passion. I can't throw it away like that. I...I can't!" I put my palms upwards, sitting up a bit, "If I put a good book out, I'll save this family! I'll mend it together, Tara. We won't have to always be so careful with money. Grandpa will get the help he deserves and you...well, you won't need to be doing whatever you're doing behind our backs."

"..." She simply sighed, blinking a few times, "Chase...you shouldn't hold onto things just because you like them. They may not always benefit you."

"Tara, I know. I do...I'm not freaking ten, okay?" I leaned back on my chair, looking to her, breathing rather heavily. I felt challenged. She was doubting me and my writing skill. A skill I built up for years, all to bring me and them into a better life.

"...Think about it, Chase. I'm gonna go now, I think grandpa's done with his needs." She stood up, going for the door. As she shut it behind herself, she gave one last deadpan look at me, before closing the door completely.

I sat there, looking at that wooden, rusty door. I looked back to my writing on that computer. I took a deep breath, stood up, flipped my chair around and got right back to it.

Urgh, huh? This is it. This is the story that's going to put me into my deserved fame and fortune. I need it. My family needs it. Grandpa Jones...he needs this. This story needs to succeed.

In an hour and fifteen minutes, about four thousand more words were on that paper. I took a break, sitting back, relaxing. My head hurt from so much brainstorming.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Breakfast's up!" Mom shouted through the door. I checked my computer's clock. 9:15 AM.

Damn.

I got up and went out of my room as fast as I can. I bolted to the kitchen, much to my mother's dismay once more.

"CHASE! WHAT DID I TELL YOU?!"

"Sorry, ma!"

I got my plate right away. Toast with peanut butter. I brought it to the table and began munching away at it. Grandpa sat just before me, at the other side, using his spoon to bring soup to his mouth slowly, over and over again. He'd look at me, then back down. Not a single word coming from him.

"Chase, eat slowly, for gosh's sake!" My mom yelled into my ear, "What's got into you, kid?! Those Star Fox guys aren't going anywhere!"

I didn't really pay much attention to her apart from slowing myself down just a tad. I got done with that toast quickly and downed that glass of milk in just a few gulps. I set everything at the counter, as she'd tell us to do, for her to clean.

"Thanks, mom, breakfast was great!" I said as I went to her, giving her a gentle hug from the side as she browsed through the fridge. She didn't hug back at all. I let go of her, "I gotta go now. I'll be back home by the afternoon. I love you, mom!"

"Love you too, Chase."

Running through the door by grandpa's clock, I got my bicyle from the garage. I pushed the button on the wall and it opened up in its usual slow fashion. I biked outside right away, letting the door close by itself automatically by the next minute.

And now, to pedal to the event I waited for over ten years.