Break Me (Phan)

Philip Lester
Sunday 11th October

"Mm Baby, can't you see I'm calling? A guy like you should wear a warning-" my brother, Martyn, and I were screaming Britney Spears at the top of our lungs in the back of our parents' car as the vehicle trod along the town roads.

"Boys!" Mum grabbed our attention, "Shush! We're almost there, keep an eye out for road names." she informed us, her eyes remaining focused on the road ahead.

I stared out of my window, squinting through the darkness, "Mum, we can't see anything it's almost pitch-black out."

"Well, just try!" she enforced, turning a corner.

"This is it!" Martyn called out excitedly.

"Number eighty-two." Dad spoke, searching the house numbers.

"Look! There's someone walking down the road. It's surprisingly late for that in a small town." Martyn judged.

"It's none of our business, they could have a very good reason." I threw back to my brother. He huffed at the same moment our car pulled up the curb.

"Both take your suitcases and find a room." Dad smiled, gathering his items from the long car journey.

"I still don't see why I have to help with all of this. I don't even live with you guys anymore!" Martyn complained.

"Well, would you like a place to return to at the end of this year, after you finish Uni?" Mum sighed.

"Well, yeah..."

"Then, there you go. Now, take your suitcases." she commanded.

I let myself out from the car door, collecting my suitcase from the car boot and dragging it up the stairs towards the house. I couldn't gather much of the appearance of the outside house in the darkness, however once I flicked the light switch on in the main hallway, I could see every corner of the interior. I hummed to myself, appreciating the 1960s build. The wallpaper was definitely not original; it had wood chip beneath it, which was common in the 90s, and it had been painted over a good few times by the look of the small cracks. However, it did have the original skirting boards, chair rail and cornice still intact around the edges, though chipped through various households' damage. Eh, who am I picking out all these details, it looks cozy, the floorboards seem safe and I need to get the biggest room.

I shot through the house and ran up the stairs, holding my suitcase lob-sidedly against my body. I barged the doors open one by one, assessing the three rooms: the first room was closest to the bathroom, which was at the top of the staircase, but that also meant it would be the first room for an attacker to axe me to death; the second room was bigger by about a meter in length, but it meant that I'd be in the middle of the two rooms and although the walls were rather thick, I didn't like the idea of being in a sex sandwich; the last room was the same size, but had a fireplace and an axe murderer could climb down that, or I would somehow burn myself on it even if it hasn't been lit for decades. I sighed, taking the room right by the bathroom. I dumped my suitcase on the floor by the entrance, peering around my new space. The light was a ceiling fan, which I'm certain I'd enjoy on any hot summer days. The walls were
a very light blue, apart from the first wall which was a feature wall of some dark-blue, circular leaf design-thingy. The carpet was cream. I hummed, content with the appearance of the space. I by far wasn't the most artistic person in the world, even when coming to interior design, but I liked to appreciate what I'd be living in for the foreseeable future.

I patted my back pocket, sliding my phone out from my jeans and flashing the screen on to check the time: 1:00AM. Just at that moment, Dad came in with a blow-up mattress and an overly exaggerated smile on his face. I lifted my eyebrows, placing my phone back in my trousers and taking the inflatable from him.