I was on my bed, I don’t know what had happened but Seth was in front of me. “Are you okay?” He asked getting up.
“I’m touched by your concerns for my welfare,” I muttered.
He sank back onto his chair. “Don’t push it, purple undie, Just because I was ‘nice’ to you,” he said making fake quotation marks in the air for the word nice, “-for a while doesn’t mean I’m going to be nice to you all the time.” Boys are so egotistical, conceited, and pigheaded. Or am I just saying the definition of Seth?
I looked at my leg. Man it looked…bad. I ignored Seth’s snide comments and stared at the front door. “Where’s Ray?” Then looking around, I noticed that this wasn’t my house! “Where am I?” I asked.
“You’re in my room.” Seth said. I looked around. There were no boyish stuff hung around, no posters, and no nothing. Just a messy bed, a messy desk, and a messy closet/wardrobe.
I sighed and said nothing. “Did Ray tell you anything about those guys who thrashed the house?” I asked. Seth nodded and explained. The whole time I just nodded and wondered, so the story Ray said has come true. These dudes, bad guys, whoever they are (or were), had come into my house and tried killing my family. Mom had gone out at that time and the only one in the house was Ray.
“So the war has begun,” Seth said sarcastically.
“It has,” I croaked. He looked at me like ‘are you serious’? Well, am I? I’m pretty damn serious if I’m in a mood like this. We were silent for a long time. I felt uncomfortable; here I am, in a room, his room, with my enemy and we were just sitting there doing nothing. If I had the chance, I would’ve punched his face in for burning my hand a few days ago. But you know, he’s my cousin, and cousins just don’t punch each other’s face in, though I wish I could.