Yeah, Sometimes You Wish You had Different Siblings

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I always felt embarrassed by my siblings in front of other adults, almost for no reason, but now, I can't say my feelings weren't expressed. Update:Fixing minor things and I'm thinking of a revision just add more.. "oomph?"

Submitted: September 29, 2016

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Submitted: September 29, 2016

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Short Story #1:

Yeah, Sometimes You Wish You had Different Siblings

“Alright Jessica,” Ms. McCoy, my choir instructor, concluded in her sing-songy voice. “You’re the last one to be picked up, still. Do you need me to call your mom?” I looked up from where I was putting the stacks of chairs into neat rows around the small practice room. She had a point, it wouldn’t take this long unless something held them up, I thought. I hope my siblings aren’t making a fuss, just not today.

“Um, yeah…I think that would be a good idea,” I took the phone she held out to me and punched in Mom’s cell phone number. She wouldn’t be that happy if she knew how “crazy” my family really is I thought as she smiled that ever-cheerful smile.

As I heard the phone ring for the fourth time I started to get a little worried. From what I know, Mom picks up right away if she knows the number. Did she forget Ms. McCoy’s? Know what, I don’t even want to think of the hassle to go with that problem, she’ll pick up.

Suddenly, the phone let a surprising “Yello Ms. McCoy!” blast into my ear. My ear rang, but at least she picked up I guess.

“Um, actually, it’s me, Mom. Jessica, I mean,” In all seriousness, I was glad Mom picked up like that, that way I know she wasn’t upset. I hate when Mom gets upset, because in a way, she’s like a sweet little sister…sometimes…most of the time, yeah.

“Well hello birthday girl! How you do-“

“Zachary! Stop it you little stupid idiot brat!” Alison’s scream, one that would impress even the professional horror movie actors, made my ears feel like they were throbbing on top of the ringing. I’m used to their complaining, but not though the phone this close. The only thing keeping me from pulling the phone away was the fear of Mom hanging up on me and leaving me hanging to irritate Ms. McCoy even further. How can Alison even scream like that, I thought, annoyed by the fact she practically gets away with blasting my ears all of time, better yet, how do I not get a headache from it? It’s not like it’s rare she yells like this anyway.

“Hey! Ali-"Mom’s sharp, reprehending tone was cut off by another voice that sounded really pissed off. Guess what, I questioned myself, I bet I know who it is!

“Shut up you stupid idiots! I’m trying to F-ing read, ugh!” No doubt about it, I was right, that was definitely Rachel and her knife-sharp tongue. I sighed out of the phone’s earshot pickup thingy. Really, now, you just had to start that now? I thought, I’m serious when I say never in my life will I admit to secretly calling them brats when they get like this…and that includes how they try to handle it, I added sourly as what could only be Zachary’s game music become annoyingly louder, as if to block out the sound of their complaining. I never knew Mario’s music could ever be annoying, I really liked it. Overall, I’m probably just as bad like this as they are seeing as I’m their older sister, “the role-model,” but seriously, grow up or be the “bigger person,” as Mom told me. I wish she would have told them, too.

“Hey!” Mom’s commanding "I'm done with this crap" voice made me jump at little, getting a glance from Ms. McCoy, and made the phone ominously quiet.

Did she hang up to yell at them, I pondered, still a little shocked and my heart pounding, almost not wanting to know the answer I really couldn’t have this now, I know when Ms. McCoy gets impatient, I can tell it in her voice. I don’t want that to happen, but suddenly, a rather loud thud answered my question for me.

“Um, are you guys on your way to pick me up yet?” I asked reproachfully, for all I know Mom could still be trying to calm herself down, even if she wouldn’t get mad at me.

“What? Oh, yeah, we’re on our way now,” Mom, thankfully sounding calmer now, let out a disappointed sigh as something made a low crack  in the background. “By the way, can you tell me where to pick you up at again? I, um, have seemed to have forgotten…again.”

“Oh, yeah,” Poor Mom, having to deal with them like that...But boy was I glad that I'm not her right now, I thought as I peeked out the door. “By the gym, but I’m in the Chorus classroom.”

“Okay? What does that mean exactly?”

“Oh, don’t worry the room is right inside the gym's lobby that's right in the door.”

“Good, that’s clearer now...I guess. We’ll be there in about let’s say…Five minutes give or take your siblings,” she laughed as if to shake her peeved nerves off while my siblings angrily retorted something I couldn’t make out.”

“Okay, see you then, bye.”

“Bye, Jessica. See you soon.” I ended the call and handed it back to Ms. McCoy.

“So, what did she say?” Ms. McCoy inquired me.

“She’ll be here in about five minutes,” I answered her. Was that a hint of impatience in her voice? I wouldn’t blame her if it was, it’s 5:11 now, and I was supposed to be gone at 4:00! Talk about patience to put up with me and “hang out” like that before asking to call my mom. I expected her to do something to prove my suspicions, but she only nodded and put her bags on the end of a row near the door.

Just then, my Mom and my grumpy siblings appeared at the door, and almost immediately, Zachary barged his way through and started to run indoors. That was against Mom’s rule! Not to mention stupid, I added in my mind.

“Zachary, come back here you little twit!” Alison’s hand jabbed out for Zachary, but it was in vain, he was too quick for her.

“You can’t catch me, you can’t catch me…You, huff, can’t, huff, catch, huff, me,” Zachary’s little chant soon came in forced puffs as he zipped around the room and rows of chair stacks in tight circles with never ending speed, narrowly avoiding them and the grand piano that sat in all of its glory by one of those rows. I felt so embarrassed, what example am I if my siblings won’t even stay polite while with another adult? Even worse, will Ms. McCoy think less of me because of this?

“Zachary,” Rachel grabbed at his arm, pulled him towards her, and muttered something I couldn’t hear into his ear.

Zachary apparently didn’t want to hear what she had to say, because he struggled and became free of her grip, but it wasn’t home free. He stumbled and bumped into the end of the row with Ms. McCoy’s bags in it. Only then did I realize that there was a glass snowman cup in one of those bags as I watched in stiff horror. The cup shattered as the bag hit the floor with an almost silent thud.

It was so silent to the point where you could hear a pin drop, as if sound was turned off by the God I believe in. We all stared at what used to be the cup with that dreadful awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity…but then it was turned back on. I half wished that it stayed off.

“Uh oh, uh oh,” Ms. McCoy sounded as if calming a toddler, her face showing no negative emotion.

Mom bent over to start picking up the pieces of broken glass littered on the floor while Zachary did his stupid thing where he pulled up the neck of his shirt to cover his mouth and runny nose to cry “without anyone seeing” I think it’s a terrible habit, not to mention that it drags even more attention to you.

He blubbered while walking around and started crying. The sound of his terrible wail rang in my ears. I felt like slapping him, just to hope he’d shut up, but from seeing Alison’s multiple failures to test that, I restrained myself. It would only make him cry harder and become even more of nuisance. Plus I would get slapped by Mom….In front of Ms. McCoy.

While Zach blubbered some more, the sound of Alison and Rachel bickering climbed its way into my ears from the other end of the room. Granted, the room wasn’t exactly big, but I strained my ears to listen to their “conversation” anyway.

“I was your fault, Alison! You yelled at him!”

“No way Rachel,” Alison screamed her famous scream, “You pulled him and made him bump into the chairs with the bag in it!”

 As they carried on I looked around for Zachary and found him being scorned at by Mom, who was jabbing her finger at Ms. McCoy. Judging by the look of utter surprise on Ms. McCoy’s face made me guess that Mom had used her “special” language to add, um, “effect” to really show that she meant what she meant.

“Oh, come here Zachary. Come here,” Ms. McCoy sat on the piano’s bench and gestured him to sit in her lap. Odd, I wondered, I’ve never seen an adult do that for Zachary before, especially when he broke something, but I guess it makes sense. Ms. McCoy has grandchildren that were like Zachary, too. She hushed him from his rapid gurgle/crying sounds and said things that I couldn’t make out. My ears still hurt a little.

I stared in silence for what seemed like forever. Alison and Rachel stopped their pointless arguing, Ms McCoy was still saying things to Zachary, and Mom was so close to being done with all of the scattered glass.

My ears perked at the sound of Zachary’s little stumbling feet, probably shaky from having that meltdown earlier, and I looked over. Mom stood up to face the pair that walked up to her.

“We’re all right now, Mrs. Brown,” Ms. McCoy draped an arm over his shoulders. My eyes settled on Zachary’s puffy face, I could see the tear stains that seemed to have rippled down his red face and his eyes looked rubbed and almost puffy. “Zachary apologized and he’s really sorry.”

“Oh, good,” Mom’s eyes narrowed a little. Maybe she remembered her “colorful” conversation with him? She gestured to the pile of glass in her hand. “Do you just want me to throw these away? I’m sorry I couldn’t pick up the tiny pieces, and if you want we could get you a new one-“

Ms. McCoy made a gesture as if waving it away, “Oh that’s quite alright. The janitors can vacuum them up, oh, and please do,” She added, pointing to the trashcan beside the door. “You don’t have to get me a new one, I have plenty others, and it’s not like it was my favorite or anything,” she added Mom dumped them, looking a bit relieved to have the sharp things out of her sensitive hands. After wiping her hands to get as much of the glass, now really dust in my opinion, off her hands, she turned around to face them.

“Okay then,” she turned to us, “All righty guys, let’s not bug Ms. McCoy anymore,” she threw a swift, warning glance at Alison who looked like she was going to retort something like, “But it wasn’t my fault in the first place, how could I have bugged her?” At least that’s what I would see her saying, you know, being Alison.

“Ah, well, I’ll see you later then,” Ms. McCoy added with a smile that looked at little too relieved and had an edge to her voice that was a bit irritated, but I would be relieved to have us gone too after all that happened. It’s odd though, if anyone noticed the edges of annoyance in her actions and words, no one showed it. Zachary ran up and almost knocked Ms. McCoy over with a bear hug and she let out a little grunt of surprise. Zachary murmured something I couldn’t hear, “Well, you’re welcome Zachary.” I could practically feel the warmth in her heart for him from here. So cute, but I had to turn away.

She waved us goodbye as everyone was piling out of the door. I heard Zachary slowly, probably reluctantly,  pull away and followed behind me. I heard a sigh that sounded exhausted and I spotted Ms. McCoy out of the corner of my eye. Was I imagining the look of what could be said mildly as remorse and stress plastered on her face like a drama mask, staring at the little remains of the cup? Did that cup really mean something to her?


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