Minuet

Benny likes it. Having his strings pulled like this, moaning as the hand slides down, down…It’d be nicer if the hand could play just a little better. Sliding, arching, twisting, crying. Joy, pain, pleasures, ecstasy, if only the hands playing were better. Oh, this…Fix me make me better, make me feel like I’m not faking. PLEASE, just a little longer, how we love to go along.

“Such an attention whore…does it make you feel elated?” a voice smooth and deep, melodic, kept in tune.

The song finally reached a climax, and the sound of the guitar strings slowed, then finally came to a complete stop. BENNY, dear Benny, how I wish you were my lover…How I wish…

“Cade, stop making love to your guitar and come eat. I swear you’re such a fag, honestly, you need to get laid.”

Sigh. A perfect moment ruined, by my loving sister. I was really getting into it. Damn it. My dear sister, she cares for me so damn much, that she feels she needs to emphasize my lack of flamboyancy and social butterfly behavior. I’ve lived with her for a year and she still doesn’t understand my morning guitar playing ritual.

That fag comment? Yeah, just ignore it, my loving sis uses it as an endearment. Brings back loving memories of the high school I dropped out of, every time she says it. Not that it’s not completely degrading, it’s just…well…she’s an asshole…Don’t get me wrong, I’m an asshole too. We come from a whole family of assholes, which was inherited from a long line of assholes, that mutated from buttholes—

“NOW, if you plan on moving at all today.”

Ah, dear sis. Gotta love her. She’s just jealous cause she can’t fuck like rabid bunnies with her husband anymore. Not that she’s rabid. Or her husband is rabid.

Actually I’m pretty sure she’s rabies free, because that’d mean her fetal bundle of love would be mutated, and that can’t be because I’ve already seen the ultrasound pictures. And--

“I mean it Cade, you’re getting the fuck out of my house today, I’m SO glad we found you a roommate.”

Nora, my loving rabid sister who put an ad in the newspaper to kick my deadbeat ass out of her house. Well not EXACTLY deadbeat per say, more like I flunked ninth and tenth grade so hard, I was a senior with a tenth grade homeroom, and just enough credits.

So I finished school at the Readsong area community college. So luckily I won a scholarship (amazingly) last year during my stay, for some creative writing contest. So now I’ll be attending Readsong University of Performing Arts, school books and classes paid in full for four years, but the on-campus dorm I had to pay for unless I could find someone willing to share. Which is what thankfully happened.

To appease my dear sister, we made arrangements last week to move today. So I packed away the few things I own into some duffel bags and bye-bye Caden. After breakfast, of course. Couldn’t head off to Uni without filling my stomach now. She’s just like mom sometimes…

I head off to eat the toast and eggs that I know she’s prepared, as usual. Her husband, Joe probably drinking coffee while playing video games. I have no idea what his work is, all I know is he sits in an office all day with a cubicle and a ringing phone all day like in movies. My sister is a sports columnist editor for the local newspaper, and from what I know, she’s very successful too. But I wouldn’t know too much, I’m not all that into sports other than how they work. Unless yoga counts as a sport. It builds muscle, and strength and all that, but once again, I wouldn’t really know.

I grab the plate off the counter in the small kitchen, and start to prepare tea. It’s not a completely small kitchen, like an apartments kitchen, but it’s decently sized for this house. One with the kitchen open, and a counter separating it from the dining room. The living room’s decently sized, an office, and it’s got two rooms upstairs. It’s a cozy sort of house, not particularly fashionable, like the houses designed on TV shows (I think I watch too much television), but she’s developed mom’s taste for decorating. The couch matches the curtains. The woods of furniture match, that sort of thing. I don’t know if I’ve inherited it, seeing as I’ve yet to have my own house.

I finish making my tea and pour it into one of those plastic coffee cups and place the lid on top. I scoop the eggs onto the toast and make a half a sandwich, eating half of it with one bite.

“’Ey ‘et’s go’m.” I motion at Nora, spewing egg and toast onto the floor.

“Cay! What is wrong with you? Sit down at the damn table.”

“Then why’d you wake me up for?”

“So you’d have time to eat, dumbfuck.”

“Well what’s the point in that now, I’m ready to go now!” I whine, taking the last bite of my sandwich and flailing my arms unnecessarily.

“Oh for crying—Get your damn bags and lets go,” she pointed to my duffel bags by the door, and kissed Joe goodbye.

I grab my bags and my guitar and lift them onto my shoulders, spilling tea from the little holes in the lid, forgetting I left it open. I’m such a klutz sometimes.

“Seeya Joe!” My sister pushing me out the door. I think she might be just a little annoyed with me.

Hehe. Off to Uni, Caden. Should be somewhat entertaining.