Story Snippet #5

   Going Ballistic is back! I've been working on it some more and enjoying it immensely. This is so fun to write! And my goodness, I did not expect it to be getting so dramatic. But it is, and I must say, it's been giving me plenty of laughable material. Hope you like it as much as I do!

To refresh your memory of what happened last, go to Story Snippet #4!

And now: 

Chapter Three

 I’ve never run as fast as I did in the next five seconds. I tore the monkey away from my neck, threw him onto the ground, and raced for the door, another desperate plea on my lips. “Help! Mom, Mom, Mom!” Flinging open the door, I stumbled blindly down the dark hallway. The shadows leapt out from their corners and seemed to smother me. I slowed my pace for just a second, wrinkling my brow in perplexity. Why on earth was it so dark?

    Hearing another monkey squeak from behind gave wings to my feet. Forgetting all about the fact that I could hardly see, I tore down the hall and into the kitchen, wailing. “Mo-om!” 

   Mom leapt up from where she sat lounging on the couch. “Good gracious, Jimmy! What on earth is wrong now?”

   “Balli-llistic,” I babbled, tumbling onto the couch next to her. “He’s after me!”

   Mom’s faint look of amusement was replaced by mild irritation when the monkey popped out of the hall, screeching. Emm had a firm hold on his tail and was trying to get him to calm down.

   “Emm, what are you doing?”

   Emm shot Mom a frustrated look. “Ballistic got away from me! I was trying to peek in at Jimmy to see if he was okay. I didn’t know Ballistic snuck in!”

   I curled up into a tight ball and glared at the horrible creature that had ruined my life. He was still squirming to get out of my little sister’s grasp. If looks could kill, Ballistic would have been dead within a millisecond. 

   Mom reached down and grabbed the monkey by the arm. Ignoring his vehement protests, she snatched him up and started down the hall with Emm trailing her.

   My muscles slowly began to relax, now that the imminent danger was past. I scooted up against the arm rest and laid my head against it. It was then that I realized how badly I’d been shaking. My whole body was quaking, and I felt as if someone had taken a hammer to my head. Tears sprang to my ears, but I stubbornly swiped them away. Don’t go crying like a baby.

    Within a minute, Mom was back. She settled herself on the cushion next to me and began to massage my back. “You okay?”

   “No,” I mumbled, turning my face away. I wanted to throw my arms around her neck and cry like I used to, but doing so would make me feel even worse. It would make me feel like I couldn’t handle my own emotions. 

   You can’t handle your own emotions, a small voice nagged me. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyelids shut. I felt the warm pressure of my mother’s hand on my arm.

   “Jimmy?”

   Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I jerked upright and faced Mom. “I can’t do it.”

   “What, honey?”

   “I can’t get along with Ballistic. I’d rather die before welcoming such a horrid creature into our house. Not that I won’t die anyway, with how I’m feeling right now.” I half-expected Mom to scold me for having such a negative attitude, but she just smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

   “Jimmy, I’m not expecting you to love him right away. I’ll admit I am not too comfortable with the idea of having a monkey in the house, either. But your father thinks it’s all right, and just look how happy Emm is. Ballistic hasn’t ruined anything yet--”

   Except for my precious sleep . . oh, and that lamp that was on my nightstand, I remembered in dismay.

   “--and there is a chance he won’t. While this is certainly very strange, I don’t think it will be too terrible for us. Just try to get along with him for Emm’s sake, okay?”

   When I nodded, she gave me a one-armed hug. “Good. Now, let’s take a look at you. Running around like the house is on fire isn’t recommended for a person with a fever.”

   Mom was definitely right about that. My whole body ached, and a dull pain suddenly emerged from the depths of my brain and decided it was a great time to grace me with its presence. I hadn’t felt this terrible since the day I tried out a friend’s skateboard and had ended up nose diving into a cement slab. 

   Mom pressed the back of her hand against my forehead and clucked her tongue. “Well, you aren’t any better. Did you sleep at all?”

   “I had been.”

   She blew out a low sigh and rose from her seat. “Alright, back to bed with you. And this time, I’ll personally see to it that you aren’t disturbed.”

  

 A few minutes later, I found myself falling gratefully back into my jumbled mass of sheets. 

   Mom began to set the room to rights, fixing my sheets, adjusting the air conditioning, and making sure I had a tall glass of cool water within arm’s reach. She heaved a disappointed sigh when she saw my poor lamp. Crouching down, she examined it for any real damage. “So much for Ballistic not having ruined anything yet.”

   “Broken?” I asked.

   Mom nodded. “Just the light bulb, though. The lampshade is still fine. You stay right there; I’m going to clean up the shards.”

   Not that I could go anywhere, anyway. She’d given me the explicit order to remain in bed unless I needed to use the bathroom. That was fine with me. With how I felt, there was no way I was going to move around more than necessary. 

Signed,

Martha