Drama Queen...

My younger sister is such a drama queen. As per normal, when I woke up in the wee hours of the morning, I found my younger sister's legs on my bed. Annoyed and pissed, I shoved them off, rolled over, and tried to fall asleep again. but unfortunately for me, Putty replaced her filthy feet on my bed. I shoved them off again. This repeated itself for a countless amount of time, and in the end, pissed off and sleep-depraved, I used my legs to kick her legs off. Again, this was repeated over and over and over again...

Finally, fed up and royally pissed, I moved my legs in a running movement directed at Putty's pesky legs and it was a great success. I managed to repel her legs but it was pretty tiring. Putty got mad then, and she sat up and glared at me. Unfortunately (for her), I was as blind as a bat without my glasses, so her death-glare was not very effective. As my blindness was coupled together with the darkness, I could only make out her face as a blob that is extremely blurred at the edges. We glared at each other (or rather she glared while I stared glassily into the distance) for what seems to be an eternity when she moved. Whole-heartedly sick and tired of gazing at nothing, I took this chance to tell her "Too bad, you moved. You lost the glaring match." in the snobbiest tone I could muster before going to the toilet after I had switched on the desk lamp in the room to irritated Putty. In the toilet, I promptly washed my hands and feet with Dettol as I felt unclean after touching Putty's feet. I went back into the room, switched off the lamp and went back to bed. After a short while, I got up again, switched on my desk lamp, went to the toilet (again) as my bladder was full. when I got back, I had switched off the lamp and was in my bed when Putty spoke "You just don't dare to look back at me." was her words. Calmly and talking to her as if I was addressing a two year old, I told her I wasn't so dumb and stupid to waste my time and energy on such trivial matters. Then, Putty said "If I took a knife, you would be dead!". But as I wasn't paying attention, I didn't hear what she said, so I retorted back " Took what? Took what? Do you think I care?" Putty then stormed out of the room and went to the kitchen. As she had left the door open, I got out of bed to close it. As I stood by the door, I briefly considered locking her out of the room, but being the nice person I am, I resisted the temptation to do so. When Putty came back, I was already warm and snug in my bed and she told me that she had always wanted to do this. All this while, my back was facing her, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, and I rolled over to see what the hell was she going on about.

It was then, I saw the fruit knife in her hand.

As Putty had switched on the main light of the room, the blade glittered menacingly under the bright light. Sadly, my first emotion was nothing but amusement. I swear that this is true. The fruit knife was so tiny. Then, the fear set in. It wasn't fear of death but fear that I would be in great pain as I died. I had entertained thoughts of death occasionally, but dying under the hand my annoying younger sister by a stab wound done with an insignificant fruit knife was definitely not on my list of "How I want to die". Knowing that Putty would never have the guts to really stab me, also pretty much made this nothing but a really dramatic performance staged by an attention seeker. Perhaps that was what made me irritated. I informed Putty in a cold voice how it doesn't matter to me whether does she kill me or not as sooner or later, I was still going to die anyway. It was then Putty brought the knife down...

... on to the mattress, creating a stab wound on my beloved teddy bear bedsheets and mattress. I admit that when she brought the knife down, I flinched, thinking that perhaps Putty had really gone off her rocker and was really going to kill me. When I realized she had mutilated my bed, I told her in a sing song voice that I was going to tell mum, then she would be the one that is dead. Pretty childish and immature I know, but it is nice to be a tattle-tale occasionally. When Putty had replaced the knife and was back in her bed, seeking solace in her mobile phone, I looked at the alarm clock and felt pissed off at being woken up before 5 a.m. in the morning just to watch her drama performance that was entirely wasted on me and told Putty so.

Later in the afternoon, Putty messaged me and apologised for "frightening" me. How degrading that term was and not to mention untrue (kind of, I wasn't really scared for 85% of the time). Hence I informed her that her apology was accepted but I was definitely not frightened. But still, perhaps I should invent an electrical fence to place all around my bed. The fence is like a plank of wood, only that it is plastic and at one side of the fence, it is lined with electrical wires designed to give anyone who touches it a shock that is strong enough to hurt, but not enough to kill. The side of the fence that does not have electrical wires will be the side that is facing you, hence you won't get electrocuted as plastic is not able to conduct electricity. I am sure it would be a best seller.

It's getting late so I shall stop blogging now. Bye...