17. BREAKING DOWN THE WALLS

The blanket was rudely ripped from my body, an unnecessarily rude awakening if you ask me. The sheets were tugged from under me and I was unceremoniously jerked onto my back two hours later. I groaned angrily, jerkily kicking my feet erratically at Brum's direction in hopes of killing him with a well-timed strike. It was like his mission was to just get on my last nerves until I burst apart.

“Brum.” I groaned out, slipping my hand under my pillow to retrieve my knife. I pointed it at him through half lidded eyes. Then I dropped my hand, exhausted, and gingerly sat up, staring at Brum who was fully dressed. He straightened up, having done what he wanted, then walked over to the closet as I continued groaning in abject misery. I fought with the bed covers but even if I murdered them, I still had to wake up. I grumpily hopped off the bed, walking to the bathroom.

“It's your turn to make the bed, right?” I asked. But I was not really asking. It was a way to tell him to do the bed. I was