Categories > Original > Drama > Brotherly Love
Brotherly Love
0 reviewsmartin is jealous of his brother, mikey. when the boys find themselves in a life threatining situation, can martin get over his jealousy and save himself and his brother?
0Unrated
"MARTIN JOHNSON YOU GET IN THIS KITCHEN PRONTO!"
I groaned, rolled over, and sat up. Thank god it was the last day of school.
"MARTIN, MOVE IT!"
"I'M COMING, MOM, GAAAAHHHH!" I yelled back.
I wriggled my way out of the sea of blue sheets and blankets that were twisted around my feet, and hopped out of the bed. I glanced over at my Batman alarm clock. 6:09. I had approximately ten minutes to take a quick shower, throw on some clothes, and get downstairs before my mother busted an artery.
I rushed down the hallway to my bathroom and adjusted the water until it was lukewarm. Wash, swipe on some soap, rinse, shampoo, two- second rinse, out. I wrapped a towel around my skinny waist, gave my curly black hair a quick towel dry and a brush, broke out the Colgate plus and the Spinbrush, and spritzed on some Axe. Then I was ready to go put on some clothes.
While standing in front of my speck sized closet, I thought about how great it would be to finally be free of the torture chamber that was Parsonville High School. Besides having to sit forever listening to our prehistoric looking teacher Mrs. Galahad, my month-younger brother Mikey was also in my class. Good old Mikey. HA!
Mikey was the star student, the shining example of the all American mamas boy. He made the good grades, was the star of the basketball team, got all the good looking girls, and had the special ability to eat mountains of fattening food without gaining a pound. Not only that but he could also persuade mom and dad to give him anything he wanted. All he had to do was flash those pearly white teeth, bat his baby blue eyes, and say the three magic words that our parents loved to hear. May I please. "Oh, mommy, may I please take the fifty-eight thousand and ninety five dollar Hummer out to the mall tomorrow?" "Oh, of course dear." "Excuse me, dad, but may I please go to the movies on Friday night with my perfect rule obeying friends?" "Of course son, have a wonderful time." I on the other hand asked for a second spoonful of mashed potatoes at dinner the other night and got the reply of, "now son, there are other people at this table who haven't had any potatoes yet."
"Like who?" I replied.
"Why, your brother, Mikey," mother said while filling her glass with milk.
As soon as she said that little Mikey poo came jogging down the stairs.
"Had to wash my hands, don't want to get sick." He announced with a grin.
"Martin why don't you be like your brother and go wash your hands." My mother said.
I rolled my eyes and trudged over to the kitchen sink.
"How was school today, Mikey?" dad asked.
"It was great, and guess what?"
"What?" my parents cooed together.
"I made the academic team!"
" that's great, darling, isn't that wonderful martin?"" mom asked.
"Oh, yes, congratulations, Mikey," I said in a smart alecky voice.
"thanks." Mikey replied.
He didn't even catch the smartness in my voice.
My thoughts of Mikey were interrupted when I heard the click of mom's Prada heels on the stairs.
I groaned, rolled over, and sat up. Thank god it was the last day of school.
"MARTIN, MOVE IT!"
"I'M COMING, MOM, GAAAAHHHH!" I yelled back.
I wriggled my way out of the sea of blue sheets and blankets that were twisted around my feet, and hopped out of the bed. I glanced over at my Batman alarm clock. 6:09. I had approximately ten minutes to take a quick shower, throw on some clothes, and get downstairs before my mother busted an artery.
I rushed down the hallway to my bathroom and adjusted the water until it was lukewarm. Wash, swipe on some soap, rinse, shampoo, two- second rinse, out. I wrapped a towel around my skinny waist, gave my curly black hair a quick towel dry and a brush, broke out the Colgate plus and the Spinbrush, and spritzed on some Axe. Then I was ready to go put on some clothes.
While standing in front of my speck sized closet, I thought about how great it would be to finally be free of the torture chamber that was Parsonville High School. Besides having to sit forever listening to our prehistoric looking teacher Mrs. Galahad, my month-younger brother Mikey was also in my class. Good old Mikey. HA!
Mikey was the star student, the shining example of the all American mamas boy. He made the good grades, was the star of the basketball team, got all the good looking girls, and had the special ability to eat mountains of fattening food without gaining a pound. Not only that but he could also persuade mom and dad to give him anything he wanted. All he had to do was flash those pearly white teeth, bat his baby blue eyes, and say the three magic words that our parents loved to hear. May I please. "Oh, mommy, may I please take the fifty-eight thousand and ninety five dollar Hummer out to the mall tomorrow?" "Oh, of course dear." "Excuse me, dad, but may I please go to the movies on Friday night with my perfect rule obeying friends?" "Of course son, have a wonderful time." I on the other hand asked for a second spoonful of mashed potatoes at dinner the other night and got the reply of, "now son, there are other people at this table who haven't had any potatoes yet."
"Like who?" I replied.
"Why, your brother, Mikey," mother said while filling her glass with milk.
As soon as she said that little Mikey poo came jogging down the stairs.
"Had to wash my hands, don't want to get sick." He announced with a grin.
"Martin why don't you be like your brother and go wash your hands." My mother said.
I rolled my eyes and trudged over to the kitchen sink.
"How was school today, Mikey?" dad asked.
"It was great, and guess what?"
"What?" my parents cooed together.
"I made the academic team!"
" that's great, darling, isn't that wonderful martin?"" mom asked.
"Oh, yes, congratulations, Mikey," I said in a smart alecky voice.
"thanks." Mikey replied.
He didn't even catch the smartness in my voice.
My thoughts of Mikey were interrupted when I heard the click of mom's Prada heels on the stairs.
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