Exactly How Many Are Too Much?

Chapter 1 - The Predictable Life Changer

"LET'S GO HONEY! ITS A THIRTEEN HOUR DRIVE!"

"Ugh, mom, why didn't you wake me up earlier to give me at least a few minutes for my brain to adjust before moving all this...this junk?" I complain as I trip over said "junk.

"Not failing to mention It's 5 a.m. , it's raining, I'm tired, and sweaty. I wipe my forehead, and wipe it on my brother, which results in him moving away from me in disgust.

I hate to say it, but I don't feel like moving all this furniture..." I complain while limping down the front steps, yawning.

"Awwww, you poor little idiot, did a certain dirty 16 year old forget how their belongings look?" My 7 year old little brother says as he walks past me down the front stairs, playing his little Gameboy Nentindo thingy.

Still trying to figure out what I wiped on him.

"Good, so does that mean I can throw all this away?" Mom asks sweating more then a caught criminal, wiping her head, while putting MY furniture in the moving van.

Oh, so that's what my idiot little brother meant.

"Yeah, it's not like I want any of it- wait a minute!" I stop walking, turning on my heels dramatically. "You almost got me there mother, but I will never make the same foolish mistake again! I promise this on Mr. Snuggles foot!" I raise my hand in the air like I just won a Athletic race.

Ha, me and Athletic in the same sentence: Hilarious! I think as I waltz to the car, and grab the box of cheezits.

Once the box is done, and I've practically drenched my fingers in saliva, My little brother walks past.

Murmuring something along the lines of 'what kind of weirdo, idiot names a penguin plushie Mr.snuggles'; While playing his stupid Pokemon game.

"Ugh-Nerd. Clearly that Idiot is me..." I say chewing on a cheezit that fell on the car seat cockily... "wait a minute-"

"This is pathetic..." I hear my mom yell frustratedly, catching my attention. "I can't even get help from my own children! I could've sworn i raised them right, oh Lord...where did I go wrong-"

Nope! I wipe my hands, and put in my headphones.

Here I draw the line because here comes the dramatic 'show mom some mercy', or the 'make you feel bad you didn't help' mom defense method, to get you to do whatever she wants.

This is how it goes.

First she asks god, 'why is this happening?' as you can see now.

This is the attention grabber.

Then she rants on how she's worked so hard to make you have a good life, sacrificing this, that, and the third; and then finishes off with she doesn't ask for much in return but obedience.

This is the guilt trip.

I'm sure we've all heard it before, and I'm not planning on hearing it again.

I take my chocolate brownie skin self into the house, and play: Tinashe 'Player', and enjoy myself, wildly dancing in our now-old- empty house.

~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~

I'm on my third-thirteenth- song, when someone comes, and disturbs my ancient Alex self praise ritual.

It better be important or someone's gonna sacrifice an arm to appease the destructive goddess.

I look my nuisance in their light amber brown eyes, and of course it's no other than the Aztecs- I mean my brother...Alec...

Well then, guess I better get that knife.