The Devil Spawn
“GET YOUR SLIMY hands off of my computer, Jane!” I growled at my ten-year old pest of a sister as I barged into my room, trying to shoo her away.
The pink tutu-clad pest started running around inside my room, and I couldn’t be bothered to run after her. I’m exhausted. I had no energy to chase a pest.
I sighed in defeat. Okay, maybe she’s not really a pest. She’s a human for God’s sake! She’s got a head, a body, a brain, a heart, and— you get what I mean.
However, she’s a pesky little human who likes to feed on my emotional and physical pain. That little twerp always tells on me. I swear to God, she’s the devil’s spawn.
It was 6 o’clock in the evening when I came back from an errand my mom asked me to do– grocery shopping. It’s what my mom likes to call it. I, on the other hand, think it’s just an excuse to get me out of bed and socialize.
How the heck do you even socialize in a mall? Do you say hello to every stranger you meet?
Because I’m totally down for it if that’s what you mean—not.
I ate dinner alone at McDonald’s today. No human interaction whatsoever, except when I ordered.
Now that is the type of human interaction I can handle. All the rest, I’m just too lazy to talk to, to see, to notice.
Doesn’t my mom understand that I’m a very antisocial seventeen year old? I mean hello, Mom? I graduated high school already. Skipped a grade early, because all I do is study.
Oh look a rhyme. I could start doing poetry and even marry a rich guy from a foreign country. I love planning my close-to-being-nonexistent future.
I was cut off of my reverie when something icky and wet came in contact with my right hand that was positioned on top of the computer table.
I looked down at it and saw my hand slobbered in saliva. When I turned around to scold the girl in pigtails, I saw no one. She got away again!
“Mom! Jane licked my hand!”
I know, I know. I’m too old to tell on my sister. But let me tell you this. I don’t give a single flickity fluck.
That twerp will be the end of me, I swear.
“I did not!" I heard Jane whine, my mother cooing at her in the background.
“Stop accusing your sister, Charlotte Elora!” I heard her say from downstairs.
“Ugh. Mom, it’s Lotte!” I scowled, she always wants to call me by that long-ass royal name.
My friends,—yes I have friends— Kyle, Damon, and Federigo gave me that nickname. Lotte.
It sounds better that Shar-Lought Eh-Lourah. Lotte is easier to pronounce too.
“I can call you however I want, Charlotte Elora!”
I groaned as I went inside my comfort room and washed my hands and did my nightly business before I came out again.
I tightened the tie of my white sweatpants as I made my way to the computer and furrowed my eyebrows as I saw my sister’s browser history. As I was putting my hair up in a bun my eyes narrowed at a short phrase.
The biggest Man-Band of all time. The computer read.
“What the heck is a Man-Band?” I wondered out loud.
I shrugged it off. Probably some other Childish thingama-what’s-it’s my sister’s obsessed about. I already ate dinner so, I had no other choice but to sleep. But, of course, who would ever turn down sleep? Definitely not me.
-
Waking up in the morning isn’t one of my most favorite things in the world. The reason is that the sun is always in my eye whenever I wake up.
I know what you’re thinking. Why not close the windows, or the curtains? Well, I cant be bothered to do so, okay?! I’m a very laz—busy woman! Yes, busy.
I looked at my bedside table, and saw that it was just 6 am. 6 in the flucking morning and it’s so sunny?! Get outta here. I checked my phone, darn it, the clock is correct. It really is 6 am.
No choice but to stand up and close the curtains before going back to bed.
I stomped my way over to the curtains and closed it, preventing the blinding light fron getting into my room. Oh the joy. I jumped back in bed, dreaming about my calculus book being burnt to ash—
Ring, ring! What the hell?
Ring, ring! My phone is ringing at such an ungodly hour.
Who the heck could it be? Urgh. Don’t you just hate it when its 6 in the morning and someone calls you for some unknown absurd reason?
I blindly answered my phone; I swiped the screen to accept the call. “What the flickity fluck do you need? Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep here, you imbecile!”
I heard a chorus of deep throaty laughs from the other end and almost immediately, my eyes bolted open.
I checked the caller ID and saw that it was an unknown number.
Oh God. Who the heck could this be? Maybe it’s just the ugly trio again.
“Damon, Kyle, Fed, stop playing tricks on me. I swear to all things dead that I will skin you alive with my potato peelers.” I groaned.
“I’m legit trying to sleep here.” I added, when I heard another chorus of laughs.
These best friends of mine really like getting on my nerves. I yawned out loud as I started to droop back to sleep.
“I’m hanging up, whatev—” My eyes were closing, when I was cut off by someone on the other end of the call.
“Miss Charlotte Elora Ryans, we are very pleased to inform you that you have passed the interview.” I heard an unfamiliar American accent ring through.
I yawned out loud again. I mean, don’t judge me for knowing my accents. It’s one of the perks of being British. A British person that lives in the US.
Wait... Interview?
“What interview?” I decided to voice my thoughts. I was suddenly awake. My eyes were furrowed as I tried to identify what was actually happening.
“This whole conversation is the interview. It’s for the Boy Band Games, y’know. The one you applied for yesterday night?” I heard someone with a light Texan accent say.
Yesterday nigh— then suddenly it hit me. Jane, my little sister was on my computer, looking up some sort of band. No doubt, she is the one behind all of this.
“Jane Ellise Ryans, you are so dead!”
The tutu-clad girl who was secretly listening in from behind my bedroom door squealed as she ran for mommy.
Damn you, devil spawn.
