Back Home (you're gonna have to wait a sec though)

Roy and I are in our register class now, talking about random stuff. I told him about Emily in Art class and he nodded his head as if he was impressed.

"Well I've heard that Afrikaans girls are even hotter than normal girls."

"Who the hell told you that bit of crap?," I ask.

"Uhh...a reliable source," he says throwing me a wink.

I roll my eyes. I've learned the hard way to never trust Roy's 'sources'. No I'm not going to say what that 'hard way' was. Don't get your hopes up on that. Maybe the author will rudely sneak it into the story somewhere at a later stage, probably when I least expect it. Whatever, I'm not going to think about it. I suggest you blot the question from your mind too.

I had History right after I ended the chapter. Yes, Roy was right about the project in the chapter before that. I almost had a stroke when I saw the essay word count. Three pages! Is our teacher a sadist or what? (punches fist into palm in annoyance and shakes head.)

Roy grins at me, "Dude..."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm doing it again. Shut up."

He rocks in his chair, "As long as you know."

I lean over and pull his chair back an inch. Roy lets out a soft squeak and flails his arms searching for something to grab onto. I quickly let go and try to appear as if I had in no way had a part in my friends lapse of madness. Roy sits up straight and his face goes tomato red. I hold in a laugh that is attempting to bust its way out of my mouth as I see the register teacher give Roy the fish eye, before continuing his end-of-the-day announcements.

My friend slowly turns around to face me with a murderous expression written on his face. I just smile innocently and give him a thumbs up.

"You piece of turd," he mutters.

"You so deserved that," I mumble back.

The bell belts out a short apocalyptic-sounding tune and Roy and I get up with the other learners. We all charge out of the room and towards the school entrance gates, the teachers on duty doing a poor job in herding us into a straight line. Finally, freedom has arrived. Even if only for one day. I give my moody friend a fist-pump and make my way home.

A couple of streets later I spot my house perched on the side of the road. I jog up to the front door and fish out my keys so that I can unlock it. I enter the house and almost step onto my orange cat, Reginald. I know it's a strange name. No idea why my parents named my fat and furry hot-water bottle that. Reginald hisses and runs around the corner and out of sight.

"Nice to see you too," I mutter to the floor.

My dad walks into the lounge and waves at me, "Hey. How was school?"

"I close the door and lock it again, "It went as good as it could I guess."

Dad nods as if to say "I know what you mean" and he moves off into the kitchen.

I follow him and drop my bag next to a chair. He gets out a coffee jar and a cup so that he can make himself...well coffee.

"How was work?," I ask him.

It's kind of like a pre-predicted conversation that we have every time I get home from school and he replies with the expected response.

"It was good enough."

"Cool."

I move over to my bedroom and get changed into my normal clothes. I bring out a small notebook from my cupboard and open it to 'MONDAY' where a list of activities have been pre-written for me to check off. I like to keep track of my everyday chores and to-do stuff so that I don't forget to do anything by mistake. Though, as you may be trying to point out right now, my Afrikaans proves to be the loophole in the system. I don't care about that at all really.

I grab my phone and select a music playlist to listen to. Aren't I forgetting something?

'My bag.'

Is it just me that walks into a room, forgets why I walked into said room, and walks out again...only to suddenly remember what I wanted to do? Yup, that's what happens to me as I go back into the lounge. 'I came in here for a reason...,' I tell myself. I cannot, however, manage to jump start my brain into remembering. I walk around aimlessly for a few minutes before I decide to snag myself some mango juice from the fridge. As I open the fridge door I see my bag and slap my forehead.

'You idiot!'

I drag my bag into my room and toss it at my desk. I sit down on my bed and let out a slow breath. 'Now I can take a second to rela-'

I hear the sound of wheels on the driveway outside and a car door slamming. A shrill cry, from what I can only assume to be my next round of torture, rings in my ears. Footsteps pound on the walkway and the car beeps as its doors are being locked.

I close my eyes, 'Oh for heavens sake please don't-'

"Hey Dad, Mom and I are home!," Stan shrieks.

I'm not joking when I say he 'shrieked'. He literally screamed at the top of his voice so that it would be impossible for the moths in the attic not to hear him.

I brace myself and walk out of my room to greet the other half of my family.

Mom drops two bags of groceries onto the floor and sighs while Stan runs around looking for Dad. 'Maybe he barricaded himself in the bathroom,' I smirk to myself.

"Hi Mom," I say as I pick up the bags that she put down, "How was work."

She gives me a grateful smile as she pushes her car keys into her purse, "Thanks Jim. It was okay."

I place the goods on the kitchen table and head back to my room. Reginald materialists out of nowhere and purrs for my attention, strutting along the top of a couch.

"Oh you're back," I tell him as I stroke his fur, "Guess you must be hungry."

I step back into my room and turn to face out towards the passage.

So this is my family. Decent enough but definitely not the people that you would want to be stuck on a deserted island with.

I know that I may sound ungrateful but I promise that I'm not. You're stuck with the family that you are born into anyways, so you're gonna have to learn to love them. Now that you know my Mom and Dad, Stan and Reginald, Roy and Emily...and lastly me, you have a better scope of what you are getting yourself into. It only took six chapters (I was being sarcastic). I should have explained it waaaay sooner. Oh well, it's done isn't it?

Wait...

I hope you aren't assuming that I'm ending the story here, are you?

(rolls eyes and groans) Great, you're just like Roy in that sense too! He assumes everything instead of using the five brain cells that he already has.

There'll be plenty of opportunity to work on you though. Okay, I'm going to call it a chapter and end off...'the chapter'.

"See you in the next one." (winks and waves)

"Mom, Jim is talking to his imaginary friends again!," Stan shouts.

I roll my eyes and shut the door.

'That neanderthal.'