I continued shuffling in my room. I did this day to night. Even on weekends. I'd mess around in there until I got called out of there to do something like clean, do chores, (basically clean), and eat. Shut-in stuffed lifestyle, right? Riiight.
That's when I smelt something from outside. I could tell it was outside, for it gets chilly when the door's open. I literally stumbled out of my room like it was on fire.
"What are we cooking?" I asked my brother, who was still occupied on his phone playing whatever he plays every day.
"I dunno, but people are coming over,"
"Yea. What's wrong with them?"
"I'll show you 'yeah'. I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE COMING"
"Dad's been saying they're comin' over for like an hour or so,"
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH I hate people. I'm an introvert, and sometimes I wish I were a turtle instead. You know, like, "just let me...like...get inside my--okay bye bye, okay? Bye bye!"