I Solemnly Swear That I'm Up To No Good

3-I Want To Get Off This Damn Air Mattress

3-‘I Want To Get Off This Damn Air Mattress’

It’s 3:23 in the morning.

I’m sitting in my bed with a large jar of melted marshmallows.

Ryder’s suppose to be here in ten minutes with a large jar of melted chocolate.

How he came up with this prank, the world may never know.

Why I agreed to help him, the world may never know.

It’s extremely dark in my room. I can’t have the lights on because then they’ll know something is up. My bedroom door opens a bit, then shuts just as quietly. In the darkness, I can make out Ryder doing a roll on my floor-probably trying to act like a ninja. “Gabi?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I whisper back. “Do you have the chocolate?”

He stands up to his tall figure, grinning those pearly whites at me. “Of course I do. Got the marshmallows?”

“Yep.” We both have string hanging off our necks, too. “They are asleep, right?”

He snorts, a little too loud. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

So we tip-toe our way into the hallway, and over to the boys’ bedroom. Ryder, as if he’s done this a thousand times before, opens the door so slowly and quietly you would never know he’s there. Inside, the TV has on a video game screen on pause. It’s the only light source in the room. That’s how we see Parker on his bed, his foot hanging off the side and his mouth wide open. One arm is dangling off the bed while the other is behind his head. The blankets are at his feet, all tussled like. 

My other brother, Porter, is asleep in a bean bag. A controller to the game is in his right hand, the other limp in front of him. His legs are spread out, like Parker’s, all knotted. A soft snore leaves his lips every minute or two. “Ready?”

He smirks mischievously at me. “The war has begun.”

Ryder had this all planned out. We’re going to tie the jars above their heads to the lights that dangle in the rooms. The jars are going to be tied side ways, so half of it rolls down to the empty side and all over them. We only have a minute or two to escape before this happens. Ryder positions himself over Parker’s head, hands on the light above him. “Go.”

We get to work. I take the string on my neck and wrap it around the jar sideways, then lower it so it’s three inches above Porter’s head. I tie the string onto the light, letting it dangle there for a couple of seconds until Ryder’s done.

He looks over at me. “On count of three, unscrew the caps.” I nod. “One…two…three!” We quickly uncap the jars, and I run over to the doorway. Ryder’s off the bed like a ninja, no sign that he was ever there. The jars are slowly tipping over, and we watch in amusement at the doorway as the sweets drop onto their faces. They snitch at first, swatting away at whatever dripped on them. Then the stuff pours all over them like cake batter.