Phase 43

Chapter 5 - Finn

Crutches could go burn in Hell.

After two weeks of having them back, I was ready to murder someone. Preferably the doctor that made me use these bloody demon sticks.

"Finn, careful!" My mom called from the kitchen as I bumped into the couch. I glared up at nothing, gritting my teeth. Elliot, who had been reading on the couch, glanced up as I tossed the crutches aside and plopped down next to him about as gracefully as an elephant. My knee squeaked, but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as before.

"How you doing?" Elliot asked, sitting up to give me more room. I rolled my eyes.

"Wonderful." Sarcasm dripped off my word. Elliot caught my deadpan look and grinned.

"Hey, at least it's only eight weeks with those, not ten like last time," he teased. I wanted to punch him in the shoulder, but I couldn't rotate my body enough to reach him. Instead, I just settled on glaring at him. Electric blue eyes narrowed in competition.

"Finn! Finn! Finn! Finn!"

I had just been about to reach for Elliot's book when two voices chorused through the house, followed by two sets of feet. Then, my little brothers Charlie and Lucas were tackling me back on the couch. They were trying to tickle me.

"Char- LUCAS! Get off!" I cried, laughing as their little hands tickled my sides. I caught Elliot laughing his guts out next to me, so I kicked him in the shin with my good leg. That wiped the smile off his face really fast. "Get off me you two!" I cried again, turning back to my crazy siblings.

"Charles, Lucas! Get off your sister!" My mother's voice called through the house again. Charlie and Lucas both looked up towards the kitchen, and then glanced at each other, then ran out. I huffed, flicking my hair out of my face. Elliot was still laughing.

"Do you want me to kick you in the shin again?" I spat, then fell back on the couch and huffed. Elliot chuckled. He didn't understand what it was like to have three siblings - he was the only kid in his family.

"Oh look at this wonderful spot on the couch next to my dear friend Elliot!"

I faintly heard my other brother's voice for just a moment before weight crashed down on me. Sam, my brother dearest, had just unceremoniously sat on me.

This was the story of my life. Every single day.

"Not you too! Get off!" I cried, squirming under my brother's weight. My brother pretended not to hear me.

"So you know that game, Star Wars Battlefront?" He started up a conversation with Elliot, and I groaned. "Do you hear that tiny noise? I wonder what it was!" Sam teased. Elliot resumed his laughing. I grit my teeth.

"Sam- sam. You're on my knee, Sam get off," I cried, pretending to twist my bad knee. Sam immediately jumped off, turning to look at me with concern, but I was already up and hopping towards the demon sticks on my good leg, flipping Sam off as I did.

"You suck," He stuck his tongue out at me. I stuck mine back out at him. Elliot was glancing between us like he was watching a Ping-Pong match.

"I swear I'm friends with two 6-year-olds," He said, his eyebrows raised. I stuck my tongue out at him too. Elliot's bright eyes flashed with laughter.

⏀⏀⏀

The weeks after that passed slowly, almost painfully. With every day that passed, I was becoming more and more positive that this was some horrible nightmare. The news couldn't publish fast enough with the amount of death occurring. Every day, another murder. Every day, another "phaser", as the world had come to call them, tipped past the edge of sanity. It was dangerous to even go outside.