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When you left I believe I was laying on my bed. Looking uselessly for space on my cluttered ceiling. Look at him, still wearing his boots even. Its almost sad that he has nothing else to occupy his time. Zoe sits patiently at the end of the bed waiting for her que.
She doesn't wait long, he finally looks down at her, smiles and taps the bed next to him. One fluid motion brings her up onto the bed, front paws on his chest. He asks her for a kiss and she inches forward licking his chin affectionatly. He smiles, shifts slightly and Zoe leaps from the bed heading out the door back to her post at the bottom of the stairs. She is the house gaurdian after all.
The young man sighs pushing himself up to look acrtoss the room at his laptop. Its screen blazing blue and emitting a buzzing sound that some people say they can not hear. But he hears it and it calls to him. His life has been built on that machine. Every kind person I have ever met lived on the computer.
He gives in easily and kicks his boots off on the way across the room. One tap on the keyboard brings up a new screen, internete already opened to his e-mail. He never turns his computer off. He falls into a trance. Time, speeds by like so many colourful butterflies. Somewhere he is aware that he has other things to do and accomplish. That there is more to this life than just this glowing world of neons and wrap-around text boxes.
What brings him back to earth, hours later is the screaming. His sisters are obviously home and he limps to the door. He can see at the bottom of the stairs his two sisters. One, the younger, is a stick thin girl. She's pretty, dark brown hair, blazing green-yellow eyes that are at the moment being employed in the art of calling molten lava down on the elder. She is much taller, larger in build, plain but not ugly. Her hair is longer and her simple size and looming stature bear down on the younger girl. That young man can bearly make out the words for their volume. Something about their chores. A common enough arguement.
"You do it!" The younger screams and turns to hurtle up the stairs, the promise of death to any who cross her path written across her face. The older screams profanities after her. The door across the hall slams sending the elder into a fit as though it were a switch. She follows up the stairs and flings the doors open advancing on the younger sibling who stands her ground int he center of her bedroom.
The young man moves quickly, his limp more exaggerated by his longer steps. He knows the younger sibling, though taller than himself is not strong enough to take on the elder by herself. And just as the elder begins to reach towards the younger, hands open like claws ready to grab her by the hair and haul her to the ground, he pushes her. He speaks and tells her to leave the girl alone.
A snarl escapes the elders mouth. Anger runs rampant in this house. Nothing is immune to its effects. The older sister spits insults at the young man and then hurls herself at him. He's smaller than she is and is thrown into the wall for the simple reason that he has no body mass. There's a crack as his hip hits the wall and pops briefly out and into its socket.
He glares at his sister and hurtles back toward her. She braces herself thinking he will simply barrel into her like she had done to him but his leg wont allow it and instead as the pain of putting weight on it makes his leg give out he rolls forward knocking her feet out from under her.
At this point their mother has made it up the stairs and she tells them off. Stern words flow from her moth and the young man watches them roll over each other in waves of heat, hissing as they collide. He's grounded now, from what he's not sure. His mother is unaware of his attachment to the online world. There is nothing for her to ground him from.
As he turns to retreat into his room his younger sister gives him a grin and a thumbs-up. Her rather preppish way of saying thank you without using the words themselves. He shrugs and returns to his room, closing the door behind him.
Pain shoots through his hip and leg and he winces. Crossing his tiny room is hard with the piles of clothing dotting the way. But somehow he gets to his dresser and opens the top drawer. Everything in it slides forward as he does so making it harder to find whast he's looking for. A blue brace. He finds it and pulls it out.
He must undress to wear it. Thankfully the damned thing is thin enough to fit under the clothing, otherwise it would be a most humiliating experiance to wear it. Once his pants are off he carefully positions the harder, stiff curve of the brace. It was made to curve exactly to his hip. Once positioned he straps it around his waist and to his thigh. I can not at this time explain why I must wear this contraption. Suffice it to say that the brutish best friend had much to do with it. It will be revealed later on in this account I'm sure. But for now he will eat and sleep and awaken the next day to the buzzing, blaring, and beeping alarms of his family members. Then school will arrive and he will go though it much like you see him there. Not speaking, head down, rushing head long and avoiding human contact as much as possible. What you already know I have no need to tell you. So I will away and relate the events that began earlier in his life when I return, with a dash of the happenings of today or the day after yesterday.