Another story I may not finish. I know I'm way behind on the Vocaloid story, but I'm getting all these random plotlines now. If you want to see anymore of this, as always, reviews are welcome here.
I trudged home after another useless meeting of Congress. It sucked seriously: damn parties are more concerned with their next election and keeping up their extreme values more than what anybody actually gives a shit about. I often wished I could go back and run things like they used to. I used to stand for something great. I mean, I am still pretty awesome, best country on Earth, if I may say so, but I really don't like any of my options for where I'm going, and taking my people with me.
So, back to my place. It was at least a clear afternoon. That was Monday, I think. I looked at the house and smirked. I'm proud of it, but at the moment, I wanted to be as far as possible from this. So, what was keeping me here? I straightened my back and threw open the door of my house. I was going to call up some friends and do some visiting.
I threw open the front door and was greeted with a wave of noise: bickering, yelling, a few non-threatening sounds.
Aw, are you kidding me?
A kid ran across the front threshold, looked no older than nine. He looked at me and ran off yelling, "Susan!" I had no clue who Susan was, but the noises stopped almost as soon as he said it. Three teenaged girls appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, all looking confused at first, which turned briefly to panic before all smiling in unison and saying, "Hi."
I had no response to this.
"What's up, man?" One of the blonde ones stepped forward.
"He's looking at you like you broke in," said a voice from the stairs.
"Well, we didn't!" said the other blonde, glaring at him nastily.
All four looked at me.
"You kids are trying to tell me you five just came right in and made yourselves at home in my house, without breaking in?"
"Five?" the other girl, one with long curly brown hair, laughed.
"Hey, we knocked, bro," said the kid on the stairs. "And we were let in."
I made a few weird sounds, trying to find words, and finally settled upon, "By who?"
"How could you let fifty random kids into the freaking house, bro?!" I said once in the basement, fuming and venting at Tony, who was ignoring me while playing Kingdom Hearts on the PS2. He let them all in for some unknown reason. He wouldn't tell me; all he did was nod when I asked angrily to confirm what Lina, one of the blondes, had told me.
Well, without feedback from him, my anger had a cork stuffed in it fairly quickly. So, I went into the kitchen and sat at the little island. Lina and her sister Carol were doing something they didn't want me to see. There were two brown haired girls working off to the side on a drawing.
"Who are you two, again?" I asked, pointing at them when they looked up.
"I'm Georgia; this is Virginia." Virginia didn't look very pleased with how Georgia was handling it. She gave a scowl at her which swept over to me and back.
"Ever plan on leaving?"
"Yes. We have to go home, just like you do," Carol said from the stove.
"Where do you live?"
She turned to look at me funnily. "You don't get it yet?" Virginia said from the floor.
"North! Watch the pot, damn it!" Lina yelled.
"Yeah…" said a little boy who just walked in. I looked to him at my elbow.
"Carol is North. Lina is South. I confuse them, too."
"Oh, for the love of – " Virginia snapped. She went out and came back with nine other kids. They looked the oldest of the bunch. I stared blankly at them, still not seeing the point. Ten teenagers in a row...still standing in my house, where they really didn't belong. Two girls, eight boys...Georgia and one of the blondes stood at the other end. Now there were twelve. I counted them all, rather conspicuously: the blonde pointed at her identical sister when I got to her end.
"And Carol, with the pot."
"Not a clue, yet?" Virginia said, fists on her hips, sounding absolutely furious. Afraid of what she'd do next, I shook my head. "Good Lord, you're thick." She took an object from behind her back: a hat…a tri-cornered hat.
"That's neat." I had one in the closet just like it. Or perhaps she stole it.
"It's real." Yeah: she stole it.
"How did a fifteen-year-old girl get a hat like that?" I said in the least accusatory fashion I could.
"It's mine," said one of the boys.
"Yours? How'd you get it?"
He smiled where Virginia scowled. "I think it was 'standard issue' when I fought in the war."
"What?" He was far too young to have seen war, at least in this day! And, what's more, he wouldn't have been around to have fought when soldiers wore those! "What's he talking about?" I asked them, sweeping through each face (though purposely avoiding Virginia's).
"Wow. I thought you'd be a bit happier to see your original thirteen," said the boy on the way right.
I stayed silent a minute more. Virginia looked like she wanted nothing more than to floor me. Then it finally hit me like a ton of bricks.