Chapter Ten: God's Practical Jokes

A Chapter by Emunah June.

The next morning rolls in fairly quickly, with nothing but sheets and sheets of rain. I stand at the window, scowling up at the clouds. "You DO hate me, dont You?" I swiftly open up the window to ask God this question. His response? "Heh heh heh, I'm gonna pour water ON YOUR HEAD!"

That's exactly what He did.

I retracted my head from outside, my hair pasted to my face and my shoulders dripping with rain water. I glanced at the floor to see a puddle of rainwater beneath my feet.

It looked like I peed myself.

I sighed, my face stretched into a permanent scowl. This is going to be a fun day! I thought to myself as I grabbed a ponytail off my bedside table and started to fix my hair. God wasn't done yet, because as I was doing my hair my arm popped out of it's socket and dropped onto the floor.

"Okay, really?!" I shouted at the ceiling.

I really need to keep my big mouth shut.

In a split second, my ceiling cracked and water started dripping onto my face. I lowered my face and clentched my fist once before picking up my arm and putting it in place.

I steadily walked down the stairs to see Alfons making the same brand oatmeal (but in a pot this time...praise Jesus). I was fixing my half done, half not ponytail when he spotted me. "Sleep okay?" he asks, and I nod, the details of the dream slowly seeping back in.

I lie alot.

The smell of apple cinnamon hits me like a tidal wave, and it's then I realize how hungry my nightmare made me. Alfons slaps the slop on a plate in front of me, and it takes all my willpower not to pick it up and drink it (yes...drink it.)

As politely as possible, my fake hand grabs the spoon next to me and ladles some of the oatmeal. Alfons sits silently, watching me eat. By the 5th spoonful I kinda feel creeped out. "Al?" I stutter, and he smiles warmly.

I stare back, but it doesn't seem to matter to him.

"Ed, you should probably take a shower," Alfons says at last, eyeing my dripping hair. I feel a couple strands of it, then nod as I shovel down the rest of my oatmeal.

I regretted that later.

The minute I stepped out of the shower, I hobbled over and threw up everything in my stomach. My apple-cinnamon scented vomit drizzled on the wooden floor below me.

So, if you're brave enough, picture this: a blonde 18-year-old boy on the bathroom floor, with nothing but a towel around his waist, throwing up. And I was pretty sure that the towel was slipping.

I stood up, noticing that Alfons was standing in the doorway. "You need some water?" Alfons asks, eyeing my mess (at least...thats what I hope he was lookig at).

I lick my lips clean of oatmeal, spouting out only 2 words:

"I'm hungry."

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© 2010 Emunah June.

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Angie Diane♥&hea..

LMAO at these lines "I stood up, noticing that Alfons was standing in the doorway. "You need some water?" Alfons asks, eyeing my mess (at least...thats what I hope he was lookig at)."
Wow he seems like perv. XD