4 years later...

Pudding

Such a life is not to be desired. I hate my life. I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up. Each day a rose dies in the garden of my mind. I can't stand—

"PUDDING!"

Why does my idiot brother always have to interrupt when I'm in the middle of an internal ranting session.

"What do you want HEATHEN!" I shout back in response.

I hear nothing after my outburst and thus begrudgingly drag myself out of my pensive stupor and climb down from the tree I am perched in. As I am walking towards the porch door, through the window I can see my little brother lounging on the kitchen table like the peasant he is. I pull the door open and stand in the doorway with my arms crossed, my journal tucked in the waistband of my pants. My brother doesn't react to me entering so I obnoxiously clear my throat. At the noise he sits up on the table and turns to look at me,

"Did you need something?"

I'm using all my willpower to stop myself from exterminating him,

"You called my name, doofus,"

"Did I?"

"You did,"

"I am failing to recall—

"I'll kill you you fu—

"Ah ah ah I'll tell dad if you hit me again~"

I am breathing heavily because I want to lay my brother to rest but I know that my father will have my ass if I try it. I take a few deep breaths before approaching my brother as calmly as I can. He watches me with a brow raised as I climb up onto the table with him and wrap my arms around his torso. His large body tenses beneath my slight one and he hesitates before reaching his arms up to hug me back. Uncle Stuart says that I can overcome my anger by replacing it with love so I try to hug my annoyance for my brother away.

Things are seemingly getting better and the atmosphere feels lighter until... he burps. My left eye twitches and I snap—bringing my arms up to his neck and turning our brotherly embrace into a hug of death. He gasps as my arms tighten and I am feeling triumphant and I swear I can feel the life leaving his body and let out a hysterical giggle. I hate how feminine my laugh sounds so I try to convert it into a manly chuckle and it seems to be sounding more masculine when I feel water on my face.

I spring off the table and land deftly on the balls of my feet, crouched low with a faint hissing escaping from my teeth. I look up to identify the source of the evil spray and see my father standing before me with a spray bottle in hand. He shakes his head with his usual blank expression on his face before speaking,

"Pudding what have I told you about trying to kill your brother?"

I try to remember exactly what I'd been told about trying to execute my horrid sibling but all I can think of is what I've told myself,

"Do it quickly so that you won't get caught?"

"No, I told you not to do it, ever. You are not to harm family," he sighed.

"But he harmed me first!" I complained.

"False," cut in Lemon.

I look at him and if I had not been grabbed by my father I would have stabbed my fingers into his eyes and mutilated his smug face,

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"Just shut up Lemon! You're such an annoying piece of shi—

"That's enough of that Pudding. Lemon have you been annoying your brother again? You know he's older than you and you must respect him as such," father was still holding me.

Lemon still looked smug but began grumbling when father told him to respect me as older,

"He's only a week older than me and he looks like a little girl I don't see why—

"Fuck off about my looks, at least I don't have a tiny di—

"Language Pudding. That is enough from both of you. I'm tired of this fighting. From today on, you guys need to act like real brothers and to ensure this, you'll be sharing everything for the next month—

"Sharing?!"

"Why?!"

"While you guys were here fighting, Uncle Stuart and I put your things in Pudding's room since it's bigger. You'll share his bed too,"

I cannot accept this. My disgusting little brother, in my room, touching my things?! No this will not work at all and I refuse,

"It's a no from me,"

"Pudding you can't say no—

"I quite clearly just did—

"It is also a no from me," Lemon says.

Father looked between the both of us before sighing and shouting for Uncle Stuart to come. Uncle Stuart bumbles down the stairs with his old self and engages in a whispered conversation with my father. The two men nod at each other once before father starts moving toward the stairs with me in his arms and Uncle Stuart grabs Lemon and we thus commence a strange shuffle up the stairs to my room where we are dumped. We all stand in silence until Uncle Stuart speaks,

"We're locking y'all in here for the rest of the day. Talk to each other and enjoy each other's company. You'll be eating dinner in here too," he begins to turn around when he swivels back with a smirk on his face,

"Y'all will also be sharing the shower tonight—

"Absolutely not—

"I would never—

"A shower with this sweaty mammoth? I would rather die—

"I wouldn't want to shower with a little princess like you anyway—

"It's settled then. Enjoy your night boys," father ended our less-than-chummy banter.

Once the door closes, Lemon has the nerve to look at me and smile. I cross my arms and stalk over to my vanity and pick up a fuzzy gray scrunchie to tie my waist length hair. I hear the squeal before I register it,

"AAH RAT RAT RAT RATRATRATRAT AHH AH AAH!" my imbecile brother is shouting at the the most ear-piercing volume known to man.

"There is no rat," I inform him.

"Then what is that?!" Lemon points to the wrist that the scrunchie is on.

"This is a scrunchie for my hair you toad," I roll my eyes.

Lemon continues to stare at my wrist warily and I decided to take action by leaping toward him. My movement was enough to startle him hard enough to knock him onto the floor. I use my manly chuckle to relish in my win. My brother looks up at me and I notice his bottom lip starting to quiver. I immediately feel a small, tiny, itty bitty, minuscule twinge of guilt as his eyes fill with tears. I don't want to get into any more trouble for upsetting my brother so I wrap my arms around his giant self for the second time today. He grabs me desperately and sniffles like a baby. We are sitting like that for at least an hour because we had fallen asleep. We only awoke when father and Uncle Stuart opened the door and gave us a tray with dinner on it.

I stare at the dinner in disgust. On the tray were two hamburger steaks, a bowl of brown rice, broccoli, and a pot of gravy. I almost turned away from the tray until I peeped a small box with a familiar ensigns on it. I snatched it before anyone else could and opened it. Lo and behold, the box contained a small key lime tart and raspberry roll cake. I am about to dig in when father snatches the box out of my hands. I gape at him in disbelief, my hands left in the position of grasping the precious treasure.

"No dessert until you eat your dinner—

"Yeah you can fuck off with that," I cut him off while snatching the box back.

My brother is staring at the box longingly and I know he wants a taste of the dessert but I'm not about to share. I quickly use raise my right hand and proceed to lick all of my fingers. Everyone is staring at me as I do so, confusion on their faces. Once my fingers are coated in my saliva I dig them into the pastries. I squeeze and knead the pastries until they become a sugary mess then push the box towards my brother. He recoils in disgust and father and Uncle Stuart do the same when I offer the box to them.

Satisfied with my work I grab a spoon off the tray and walk over to the bed. I lay back in the pillows and begin to enjoy my food. I can feel that I'm being stared at but I care not and thus continue eating in peace while my grumbling brother sits in a chair to begin eating the dinner from the tray. Father sighs and shakes his head and Uncle Stuart looks at me in disapproval before they both leave. I hear the door lock behind them and roll my eyes, chewing contentedly.

I'm about to finish the last bite of spooned dessert and it's halfway chewed when I feel a vice-like grip on my jaw.

Annoyed I look up to see my brother staring at my mouth. He seems to waver for a second before boldly saying,

"I want to taste"