They Call Me Lunatic

Epilogue

A fairly-wise woman with long, blonde hair and perfectly manicured nails once told me that epilogues are 'shit'. She stared me dead in the eyes and told me that epilogues are like politicians. They're the liars.

Now, I don't exactly agree with that entirely. Okay, okay, yeah, so epilogues do seem to over exaggerate the whole 'happy ending' concept. They lie a little. I get it. Everyone wants their big, happy ending with their loving spouse and two children, but that's not really reality. That doesn't actually happen. People end up paying taxes and working most of their adult lives to feed those two children who are going to up and leave in eighteen years.

If stories were supposed to end with all of this 'happy ending' nonsense, then we'd just call it a happy ending. We don't, though. That's why it's called an epilogue.

The epilogue is basically just the conclusion of the story. That's it. Its the ending. No one ever set up a law that stated that the epilogue had to be happy. It just has to end the book. It has to conclude the author's entire thought, but then again does it really? I mean, there really isn't a set law that states it has to end the book right? Who says the epilogue can't start another one? Why do we have to read an epilogue and feel sadness? Because it's the end of a journey? Is that a bad thing?

Why do we have to think of an epilogue being like the night time? Why not the morning? Why can't I sit down, read a book, and think of the epilogue as a new beginning? It could be like the ringing of an alarm clock to start my day, or an obnoxiously hard flick to the temple waking me from my peaceful slumber. Literally.

I groaned and rolled away from whoever had decided to wake me up so very rudely. Another flick was then placed to the back of my head.

"Knock it off!" I shouted as I turned around to meet a familiar pair of grey eyes. He chuckled staring down at me with amusement dancing in the grey orbs. He then proceeded to flick me dead center in the forehead.

"Dad!" I hollered sitting up against the arm of the couch causing the dark-brown-haired imbecile ahead of me to jump. His eyes widened as the sound of dad's heavy footsteps neared the both of us.

"Baez!" he hissed at me knowing darn well he was about to get yelled at in less than five seconds. As if on cue, Dad's head peered around the corner. His green eyes finding my grey ones, and then switching his gaze to the large male above me. A glare settled on his face as he walked out from around the corner to stand in front of the two of us.

"Boid, can you not be a prick to your sister for one day?" Dad growled out angrily. Boid turned to shoot me a glare which I gladly returned with a smirk. "Boid Elijah, look at me when I'm speaking to you!" Dad scolded instantly earning back Boid's attention. I'm pretty sure he paled a few shades, as well. Dad could be pretty scary. I'll give him that. He usually didn't get this mad over Boid and I's little fights. Sure, we bicker, but Boid's my twin. We wouldn't do anything drastic much like other shredders. I'd even go as far as saying that the two of us are pretty civilized. Call me cocky, but I think we could pass as pack wolves.

I shifted my gaze from my very irritated father to the floor. He was wearing his work boots that he only wore when he went to do a perimeter sweep. That's why he was most likely a bit touchy. There aren't ever many incidents at the border, so when one does occur it normally sets dad off like a firecracker. Fresh remnants of mud and dirt trailed behind him on mom's freshly swept floor. Uh, oh.

Dad's large, calloused hands were suddenly on both sides of my face pulling me away from my thoughts. I was inches away from literally touching noses with him which freaked me out to no end. What the heck is he doing? His dark, green eyes narrowed in on my forehead.