It Stinks.

It stinks. That’s an understatement, but yes, it STINKS. That would be the first thought penetrating anyone’s mind as they stepped through the old creaky door that was on the verge of falling apart. The second thing they would notice was that the room was dark, dingy and still smelling like shit. But if they focused and dissected the smells, which nobody bothered since it was too overwhelming; they would have found that other than the unbelievable stench, it also had a musky homey smell. Even if by some illogical reason they actually decided to separate the smells, they would have fainted in the first two seconds of trying. No. All sane people either grabbed their noses, or if it was their fateful second time stepping in the room, they would wear a gas mask.

All this is of course an exaggeration of Timothy Mikhail’s unlucky sister, Faustine. Every time she stepped into Timothy’s room  which smelt of old socks and unfinished cheese burgers, though nowhere bad enough for the need of a gas mask, she would complain how her bad karma from her last life must resulted her ill-fated birth to be in the same family as him. 

To Faustine’s dread, she realised it was three days since she visited her brother’s den, and it was time to make another visit because the food she had dumped in there was probably finished by now. As gladly as she would just leave him in there doing who knows what, she didn’t want it to be on her conscience if he ended up starving to death in what he called his room.

She twitched her nose in distaste as she approached the door, taking in a deep breath, she barged into the room. There her little brother was, playing some gameboy or whatever crap it was on his giant computer screen, comics littered among his stained and unidentifiable clothing as usual, the finished meal on the floor at her feet.

The mess of jet black hair unwashed for weeks contrasting her own straightened strawberry blonde hair, turned around, showing his pale face, “Hey.” 

“Here’s your meal for the next few days.”

He gave her a nod of thanks and turned back to the screen.

“Would it hurt for you to clean up once in awhile?” she asked irritated as she picked up what was left of his last meal. It was such a pity that her brother was so lacking in hygiene and social skills, with his looks and brains, he would be attracting a fanclub the size of America.

Timothy paused slightly in his game, contemplating what she was saying, “Guess not.” But he just continued moving his fingers expertly over the control.

Finally deciding that she had enough of it, she snatched the remote in his hand and swung it across the room, feeling satisfied as it gave a loud crash indicating that the machinery was beyond repair.

“What?” the boy asked, his eyes trained onto her in an annoyed stare.

“You. Are. Getting. A. Makeover.” She said, stressing every word, when she saw no reaction from her brother, her anger started boiling again.

“I can’t believe you’re wasting your fucking life away here in your hellhole. You are some hot shit, and so fucking gorgeous with a damn amazing brain. You are now eighteen!!! And cause you’re just such a smartass, you’ve already graduated university!! You are not just going to sit there do shit  on your retarded PS til you inherit dad’s CEO. You are going to fucking come with me and take a shower NOW.”

Stunned did not describe Timothy, he was flabbergasted, and quite frankly kinda scared. His sister who never swore, and hyperventilated whenever the ‘F’ word was said, just used a lifetime worth of them all at once. So he did not say a word when he was dragged off by his sister whose breathing was starting to get faster and faster, whether from anger or realization of all the swear words she just used, he wasn’t sure.

Only when she brutally shoved him into the shower and turned icy water full blast onto him, did he break out of his daze. 

“I can shower myself, thank you very much.” 

Faustine scanned over him with decisive blue eyes before nodding with a pleased expression on her flawless face and left him to his own peace. Sighing he stripped out of his wet clothes before turning the tabs again. It felt good to take a shower again, the warm water that trickled over his grimy skin was soothing, if he wasn’t standing up, he was sure he would have been lulled to sleep by it. 

Deciding that he should shower more often from now on (why did he stop showering in the first place? Showering was one of the most relaxing things in the world), he reluctantly turned off the water and changed into a set of clean clothes his sister had brought with her while she was dragging him to the bathroom.

He was relieved to see that his sister was not in sight when he came out, he wasn’t keen on going into a makeover as his sister declared, he just wanted to go back to his room, and maybe catch up with the next Naruto- he never realised manga was so addicting.

“I see you’re finally done.” 

Shit. 

He forced his face into a calm, cool one as he turned his tense shoulders to face the owner of the sweet voice. Faustine’s  face was one that was amused. It was creepy how he had seen so many different expressions from her in one day, opposed to her usual elegant, noble and proud face. Dear gods, was the world ending?

“You took TWO hours! Do you know how much money and water you just wasted?”

Seeing that her brother was not going to say anything, she continued, “But no matter, I guess you really needed this huh? After all you haven’t showered in a year.”

“Two months actually.” He corrected her, a feeling of security returning to him, as his sister’s face became stuck up again.

“Two months?!” she snorted, and that sense of security was once again gone. What happened to his polite and dignified sister?

“Is there anything unusual about that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She gave him an incredulous look, “YES. Most normal human beings can’t survive one week like that!”

“Well I am not normal, but actually normal human be-”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to tell me, just saying most people don’t have sanitation issues as horrible as yours.”

“Well in the third world countries-”

“Noo!! Can’t you take an expression? I was just joking, exaggerating. Geeze, some genius you are.”

“I just lack social skills.” He replied bluntly with a shrug.

His sister gave him a look he couldn’t quite work out what it was, “Well in that case, we should start training you, right?”

Crap. He would give anything to take back what he just said. Etiquette and mannerism lessons with Faustine? The devious smile on her face was already a dead giveaway. He had a feeling that it was going to end badly.

“I actually already planned this, so each day we would rise at nine and ….”

Scratch that. This is going to end badly.

It feels good to have finally washed my hair after five days.  my record so far;)

lol this came so randomly ^^;

later~ i'm going to give my mum a list of pandan cake

more banananananananan bread

and so on to buy>) i love being able to eat again, though its taking aaaages.