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"SPOONS R 4 EATING" - Chapter 4 (yeah, it's short)
“Wake up moron!”
“Are we under attack?” I groan, rolling over.
“No.”
“Then let me sleep you little b*****d.” I curl up into a ball and pull the blanket over my head, refusing to get up.
“Wake up!” Why is his voice so whiney? Why is he so annoying. I just want to get some bloody sleep. “Wake up!” The boy gives me a swift kick in the ribs and I tumble off of the hay-filled canvas sack onto the hard stone floor with a loud groan of agony. “Up! Up! Up! Up! NOW!”
“I’M UP YOU IDIOT!” I scream and hurl myself at him. “WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!” Then I proceed to beat him upside the head with my worn leather shoe.
“Ouch! Ge’off me! Ge’off me moron!” The boy is flailing, trying to get his hands around my neck as usual, but I’m not going to let him. ******** brothers. ******** twin brothers. That is all I have to say.
We’re wrestling on the ground, trying to beat each other as close to death as possible, but Robin has to come in and ruin our fun. “YOU IDIOTS!” Hurling one of his tattered books at us from upstairs, it flies into my head, then ricochets into Harley’s stomach. We release each other and groan, holding our newly made injuries. “GET UP! I’M HUNGRY DAMNIT! FOOD! NOW!” Robin is always grumpy in the morning.
I look out the window. It’s still dark for god’s sake! The street market is the only place we can really scrounge up some food, and right now, there will hardly be a cart open. “Robin, I’m going back to bed. There’s no point in—”
“GET ME FOOD!” I narrowly miss a flying tin cup. Robin’s a loon, he is.
“Fine, damnit, fine.” I pull on my shirt, tug on a pair of holey socks, and then lace up my worn leather shoes. They were good shoes once, but with all the running and tripping and climbing, they’ve gotten really shabby and have a dog-eared look to ‘em. Standing up, I grab my brother’s wrist and tug him behind me as I race out the door. “Well come on, Harley!” The boy lets out a little yelp of surprise and tries to keep up without tripping. But hey, he’d still be keeping up if he tripped—I’d be sure to drag him behind me with his face getting all cut up and his arm cracking a little as he flails behind me. Don’t ever say I’d leave my brother behind. Nope, never.
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