Phrase 8: Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
“You are beautiful, Alex!” My Aunt slurred as she took another sip of her beer. She begins to pet my hair, tears welling in her eyes. I had to restrain myself from sighing out loud.
“I know isn’t she?” My mother says, also reaching out to pet my hair. I can tell she is getting emotional as well with the tremble in her voice. Oh no, I hate this part. I can’t deal with this much emotion.
I groan and take another sip of my soda. This always happens when my mother and Aunt drink around any of the kids. They get so emotional about how much we have grown, but I am always a hundred percent sure that it is the beer talking. Normally, I try to avoid these moments as I am allergic to any kind of emotion, but I was volunteered to be the designated driver by my cousin, Cathy. Now, I am sitting here with my Aunt and my mother petting my hair.
“You are just so great and kind. I love you so much.” My Aunt says like she is going to burst out into sobs right there.
“I love you too, honey. I don’t know what I would do without you and you have always made me proud.” My mother says, placing a kiss on my check.
Oh god, someone save me. Please. “I love you guys, too” I say politely and both of them squeeze me into a hug. I just wish if that if they meant all of this; they would just say it when they were not drunk.
Phrase 7: Where’s there’s a will…I want to be in it.
“So….,’ I said to my cousin Ann, ‘You think he left me anything in that will?”
“Is that all you care about?” She asked, disturbed by my indifference to this time of grieving.
I pretended to be someone deep in thoughts as I thought about dear old Grandpa. The man was in no uncertain terms an old coot, who tried to make everyone miserable and went out of his way to make life a living hell. If there was any redeeming factor about the old fart, it was that he had a fuck ton of money and being ‘nice’ to him would hopefully get me some of that money.
“Well, yes.” I replied bluntly. I felt no sadness over his death.
“How do you sleep at night?” She asked as if she was talking to an unfeeling monster.
“Quite fine, thanks”. I said with a smirk and joyful tone.
Phrase 6: Sarcasm is only one of the services I offer.
“That was brilliant. A+ plus work. Genius move.” I say sarcastically as my friend fails at her task again. She has been at this door for hours, the puzzles continuing to taunt her. My arms are crossed and I watch her with an amused smirk.
Cassie turns on me, anger apparent in her eyes. “If you are so smart, then why don’t you figure this out?” She growls frustrated. It’s not my fault she can’t solve and that she is the only one who can. If I try to solve this door or give Cassie the answer, it means certain death for us.
“Sorry, opening magical doors by solving the puzzle is not one of the services I offer.” I reply. I hope she takes the hook. Cassie is great to taunt when she is frustrated; she is too cute.
Cassie glares at me and asks, “And what services do you offer?” Hook, line, and sinker.
“Well, I do offer Sarcasm. I must say some people find my sarcasm quite amusing.” I reply jokingly. Taking things seriously is not another service I offer.
Cassie focuses on the door with a growl. “I don’t know why bring you along.”
Phrase 5: Do not disturb already disturbed.
It seemed this would be the fourth night in a row I would go without sleep. I couldn’t close my eyes without catching a glimpse of his face. It’s not like I could just keep my eyes open and ignore him as he was sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at me without blinking.
My Insomnia started a few nights due to a case that I had personally involved in. I had left myself become too close to the victim and let the killer manipulate me into playing his game. I had told Tyler that I would keep him safe; he was like a brother to me. All that did was manage to get Tyler and the Killer dead.
The first night hadn’t been too rough on me; I expected it to be a pretty sleepless night. I had to finish some paperwork and let the paramedics check me out. Everything seemed alright, but I was a little shaken up. I was always a little shaken up after rough cases. How could I expect it to turn out like this?
The second night was a little more concerning for me as I needed sleep to function at my job. However, I figured I could handle another night without sleep. It would take a lot more to knock me off my feet. I was a little shaky and every time I closed my eyes, I could see Tyler staring back at me with a blank face.
The third night was when I really became concerned about my inability to sleep. At work, I kept falling asleep at my desk for a few seconds. However, I would jolt awake due to the fact that I saw Tyler’s bloody face staring back at me accusingly. I thought Renee was going to have to rush me to the hospital with the way my vision kept blurring and my speech slurring.
Tonight, I know I won’t fall asleep, because of Tyler. Instead of seeing him every time I closed my eyes, I saw him in real life. I nearly flipped my lid on the tube this morning when I saw Tyler, wounds and all, siting in one of the seats on the tube. I practically ran off the train and continued to see him wherever I went. There was no escape from him or his accusing stare. The boss sent me home early since I kept jumping at every little thing.
A knock sounds from my door and I realized don’t want to be disturbed. I just want to be here alone with my thoughts and Tyler.
Phrase 4: I don’t know karate but I do know crazy and I am not afraid to use it.
Oh gosh, how did I get into this mess? I had a dude threatening me for my purse with something that looked vaguely like a Taser. There was no one around and it seemed like no one was awake in the buildings on either side of the alley. I didn’t have any knowledge, except for the Karate classes I took when I was five. I was so close to getting home after a rough day. This was just the icing on the cake.
“Give me your purse!” He shouted, waving the Taser. I know I should totally be less foolish and hand him my purse, but I couldn’t do it. The rational part of me kept screaming to just give him my purse and I could cancel my cards later, but another part of me decided that scaring this dude was a better idea.
You know those nature shows where they give you advice on how to deal with wild animals? I recently had been watching one on cougars and for some reason, I decided to treat this guy like a cougar. Logic at its best, folks.
“ROOAARR!!!!” I yelled, grabbing the edge of my windbreaker and lifting it up. I began to shake my windbreaker and continued to roar at my attacker. I opened my eyes wide and stood on my tip toes. The goal was to look as big and as threatening as possible.
“What the fuck?” He said, looking around before looking at me. I could tell that he was scared that my pathetic roaring would draw the attention of my neighbors. I could see one of my neighbor’s windows light up and increased my antics. I began to roar louder, hoping he would scram. “Fuck this!” He yelled before running away from me.
My elderly neighbor peeked her head out her window and yelled, “Keep it down there, Terra!”
“Will do, Ms. Collins!” I shouted back. I could see her close the window and figured she was probably muttering about my inherent disregard for other people’s sleep. I was just happy that I managed to keep my purse and not get stunned.
I don’t know karate but I do know crazy and I am not afraid to use it.
Phrase 3: He who laughs last thinks slowest.
Laughter is the first to erupt from her lips. The others follow within seconds like a chorus of hyenas. He struggles to wrap his mind around it, thoughts sluggish and slow.
I don’t understand what is so funny he thinks. He cannot force himself to laugh, not until he knows why that joke is so funny. The moment is beginning to slip and he feels himself growing angry. Why can’t he understand their humor?
However, he finally achieves the goal of realization and his laughter is filled with joy at the accomplishment. The moment is gone and he looks silly as his friends stare at him with a mixture of pity and awkwardness.
He who laughs last thinks slowest.
Phrase 2: My anger management class pisses me off
“Now, find the center within in yourself”. The woman said, leading our seminar. She was entirely too peppy for this situation.
“Find the center within yourself.” I mimicked nasally in my head. God, what a waste of time this was. If my parents were threatening to send me to one of those ‘We’ll basically try and scare the shit of you to make sure you go back on the straight and narrow’ camps, I wouldn’t be in this stupid fucking class.
Sure, I had a little anger management problem. Okay, maybe more than a little, but still it wasn’t worth threatening to send me to one of those places. I already hated this fucking place. They had the class set in the basement of a community center where the walls were painted an awful pink color and the chairs were designed to make sure that standing was better than sitting. It sucked the soul right out of you.
“Now, once you have found your center, take deep breaths and keep focusing on your center.” She said once again in that dumb voice. After mimicking her in my mind for a few seconds, I decided that the best course of action was to try and find my fucking center. I had to least pretend I was putting some effort into this.
I took a deep breath and tried to find that “center”. I ignored the swelling rage in my chest, the one that normally made me a monster. I was determined to prove that this “center” was a myth. After a few moments of concentrating and trying to take deep breaths, I felt that swelling rage disappear for a few seconds. It surprised me so badly that I nearly fell out of my chair with a yelp.
“Are you okay?” The Lady asked, concern apparent.
“Peachy Keen!” I said while my cheeks turned bright red. My near fall didn’t stop her from launching into the next activity which was about “Share time and why we were so angry”.
My anger management class pisses me off, but I think I may have found peace.