Alex | 18+

I Am Done For

Aliza

"You are so done for," He seethes.

I begin to lose my composure and start laughing.

"At least now you know not to leave a chocolate bar within my reach, especially if it's milk chocolate." I waggle my eyebrows and start moving away from Reece, going to the opposite side of where he is standing, using the counter as the barrier between us. He follows, of course, with his two fingers holding the half-gone chocolate wrap.

We begin to walk around in circles, and I try to stay as far out of his reach as possible. My brother glares at me, but his brown eyes are calculative. Reece flings the chocolate onto the counter, continuing to take slow steps as I move away from him, waiting in apprehension.

I feel like I'm in the start of one of those battles I see in movies.

Then, he starts sprinting.

And my heart skips a beat.

I yelp and run to the opposite side of the counter, keeping my eyes on him incase he starts trying to trick me by moving the opposite direction.

Reece is a baseball player, so he is definitely well-built, and he stands almost a feet taller than me. He could tackle me down in a heartbeat, but luckily I have two years of martial arts under my belt and I'm pretty quick on my feet. This is still terrifying, but somehow I always find the fun in it.

"Get back here, Aliza," I hear him sing-song and as I expected, he comes to a full stop and runs the other way, and I do the same. My heart is pounding against my ribcage, but on my face I plaster a big grin.

"Hey, come on. Have you never been taught to share? It's not like I ate the whole thing anyway—" Then something I was totally not prepared for happens.

He leaps onto the counter.

He was right. I am done for.

I shriek, running as fast as I can to the staircase, praying I get to my room before he manages to catch me.

I hear his labored breaths and pounding footsteps behind me, and just as I reach the top of the stairs, I feel the tip of his fingers sliding across my shoulders in an attempt to grab me. I scream, picking up my pace but careful not to slip and fall with my socks on. In a scenario like this, I couldn't care less about my hair clinging onto my sweaty neck and forehead.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" I ramble breathlessly as I spot the open entrance to my room. Luckily, I make it there just in time and swing the door shut.

That is, until I feel the door being forced back. My heart drops.

I may be the quick one here, but in this situation, he holds the advantage.

I force my whole body onto the door with my back against it, pushing my luck anyways. However, I realize that wasn't such a good idea when I feel my socks sliding on the floor.

Shit.

"Give up already," I hear him say.

I have two options now, the first one being my window, and the second being my bathroom. Without much debate, I choose the latter. I don't feel like dying today.

I hop back on my feet and rush to the bathroom, slam the door shut, turn the lock, and marvel in the sweet click of it, announcing my victory. A moment later his fists pounds on the door, and I lean against the sink, regaining my composure. The bathroom exhaust fans blow on the slight sheen of sweat on my skin, making me feel both hot and cold. I try to calm my racing heart, as well as my rough breathing.

I'm pretty sure I almost shit my pants.

"Goddamnit, you little shit." His muffled voice says behind the door. Reece has stopped pounding the door by now, possibly giving up, and I can't help but let a grin stretch my lips.

That was one narrow escape.

I huff, patting my own shoulder and do a little victory dance. The adrenaline is still rushing inside me.

"I take my apologies back." I announce, making sure he could hear the mock laced with it.

"Yeah, sure," He pauses, making me wonder why there wasn't any evident frustration behind it.

"You ever thought about how you're gonna get out of there though?"

And my smile drops in an instant.

"I wonder what I'll find in here..." He thinks to himself, and I imagine him rubbing his grubby hands together with a cocky smile on his face, like a villain.

The image of him rummaging through my notebooks, messing my folders and disorganizing the arrangement of my makeup is downright horrifying, especially knowing how unclean he is.

Maybe... maybe I really shouldn't have eaten that damn chocolate bar.

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