Olivia lay on her bed with her chin resting on a pillow. From where she lay she could see out the double slider window overlooking the entire back yard and the pond in the distance beyond. Being left behind with only her small very aloof brother for company always seemed to unnerve her. As she watched out the back windows, every little creaking noise the house made seemed like cymbals crashing together. While keeping her chin glued to the pillow, she jerked her head from side to side every time she noticed a squirrel or chipmunk jump out from behind the stone wall that bordered the property. When a duck landed in the pond below, her eyes darted in that direction. She was very jittery and nervous. Occasionally, she would raise her head and cock it in the direction of a sound – real or imagined – to try to hear it better. She was always searching for a sign that they were coming home. Any movement or noise could be them returning – and she didn’t want to miss any possible signals. In the back of her mind, she wasn’t always sure that they would return at all. It had happened before – even though this was a different home and a different family – she just never knew for certain that they would come back.
She often wondered why they usually left her behind. She sensed that it was something that she was being punished for – but never really understood what it was. She couldn’t tell if it was worse being left home alone or being left home alone with her brother. As she pondered this as if on cue, her brother came slinking around the corner. She could never figure out the hostility he constantly exhibited toward her. From the very first time they met, he had always made nasty hissing noises in her direction and frequently tried to whack her anytime she came within reach. She couldn’t completely blame him. Being adopted, Olivia had been brought home well after her brother had gotten used to getting all of the attention. After all these years she thought that he might at least be civil, but he only acted that way when he thought that it would be noticed, earning him a little extra attention or some kind of treat – otherwise he was always a little pest to her.
He came over to where she was laying and stopped to glare at her. He made an offensive sarcastic scowl and without making a sound turned his back on her in a very condescending manner, disappearing into the kitchen. She could hear him munching away on a bowl of something that had been left for him. She knew that he was crunching extra loud to distract her from hearing any signs of them approaching. Her sunny disposition defined who she was, and as annoying as he could be (regardless of his size) he was still her brother and she would tolerate him regardless of his boorish behavior.
Most importantly though, Olivia wanted to be tuned in and alert for any sign of their return. That was real excitement. It wasn’t too long before she heard the sound of the garage door opening. It creaked very loudly and was unmistakable. It also meant that they were home! It was by far Olivia’s favorite thing in the world to welcome them back after they had been gone for a while. Every time they returned and opened the door she would always jump up to greet them and see if they had brought any presents for her. This time was no different and she smiled from ear to ear and jumped up and down, making a huge fuss. She would mix her exuberant welcome with a chance to stick her nose in as many of their packages as she could to see if anything was brought for her. There was always a chance that there might be a special food treat hidden in one of the bags that she could snatch up. She didn’t find anything to eat, but she was so content to have them back home. They were back! Once she calmed down a bit she climbed into her bed and fell fast asleep with dreams of freshly grilled chunks of steak, slow-footed squirrels, and constant pats on the head.
He Speaks
I led a perfect life before she arrived. I didn’t have a care in the world. I spent my days eating and sleeping and watching the world go by as I pleased. I could do what I wanted when I wanted, and the best part was that I had them wrapped around my finger ready to jump at the sound of my voice. It was sweet!
I can’t stand her. They had felt sorry for her and brought her into my life to ruin everything. She is always so upbeat and bubbly and does everything she is told. They ask her to go to her bed and she can’t get there fast enough. They call her into another room and she always comes running with a huge smile on her face. I can’t understand her. To me ignoring them until I can’t get away with it any longer is pure satisfaction. If I’m asked to go somewhere, I’ll act as if I haven’t heard them and go in the opposite direction on purpose. Being a foolish obedient slob is the antithesis of “cool.” No matter how many times I try to tell her to chill out she never gets it. In fact, after years of living trapped in the same house, the only way I can tolerate her is by acting as if she doesn’t exist.
I can’t help it if she’s my sister – she gets me so frustrated that I have to lash out on occasion – especially if she’s in my way (and she’s so darn big she always seems to be) – I’ll whack her two or three times or hiss and screech at her until she cowers out of the way. I know I should feel bad about doing this, but it makes me feel so good I can’t help it. Usually, I’ll preen and prance into the next room to show how cool I am. It’s no big deal – she was adopted anyway (alright, I know that’s a low blow – especially since I was adopted too – but I was here FIRST!).
Besides my sister’s obsequiousness, there are other areas that bug me to no end. One of my biggest problems with her is that she can’t relax, especially when we’re left home alone. I simply don’t get it. It makes no sense – this is when you get nothing for your troubles since there is no one around to notice you anyway. Why waste energy when they’re not around. I see her get so anxious for them to return that she fidgets and runs from one end of the house to the other. Every time she thinks she hears something – she expects it to be them. It drives me crazy. When you’re home alone, this is the best time to stretch your nails on the curtains or pick at the tassels on the sofa cushions – not all the noisy theatrics she continually dishes out.
If she were a little more laid back like me, my guess is that she’d get more out of life. For instance, when it comes time for dinner she attacks her food and gobbles it up as if it were her last meal. Now if she took a cue from her more experienced bro, she’d ignore her food and cozy up to the others who have better stuff and purr sweet notes into their ear until they gave up some of their awesome grub. It never fails – and my typical mush will still be waiting for me when I’m good and ready for it. Instead, she’ll wolf down her chow and then come over and sit and stare patiently at everybody else eating – as if hoping that a morsel will fall out of their mouths and into hers. The obvious begging and groveling are disgusting. She doesn’t get the nuance of a creative mealtime approach like I do (its why I am obviously so superior).
She’ll never get the essence of “cool.” It gets worse when they return home (they always do by the way) and she goes berserk jumping all over the place bumping into things and making a general nuisance of herself. The worst part is that they think this is great, and lavish presents and treats and all sorts of attention on her. Before she was here things were so much more civilized. We hung out, listened to tunes, tasted the good life, and now – well, I’ll have to just hang out over here on the windowsill and wait for them to take her for a walk.