It's Complicated by KittyKat5.0 (top 10 books of all time txt) 📕

Chapter 1: Willow’s POV

I awoke to a very annoying and persistent beep. I opened my eyes into tiny slits, and waited… The annoying sound had perished, I had won with shear will power. ‘That usually never works, I told you I could do it, stupid bitch!’ I thought to the alarm clock.

But then, something horrible happened… The beeping started up again. After a while of the inconsistent, yet consistent beeping, my arm snaked its way from under my warm covers to the harsh outside world. My hand stopped to shiver at the sudden chills. Once it was over the alarm clock, my hand fisted and slammed down on the stupid device. ‘I will hunt down the bastard that thought it was a good idea to come up with a fucking alarm clock, the bastard that invented the damn thing, and the bastard that patented it, and stab them all, repeated, with a toothpick. Then I will squeeze their throats and watch as the blood spurts out of the tiny holes and laugh manically… Wow, such morbid thoughts so early in the morning…it’s gonna be a good day.’ My hand snaked back under the covers, and my mouth sighed for it, my whole body engulfed in warmth, once again.

Even though I had just smashed my alarm clock, it still had the audacity to continue is beeping. My other arm, to keep it even – OCD, here – did exactly what the other did. ‘Now, my alarm clock is mutilated. It shall never ring again. Muahahahaha! Muahahahahahahahaha!!! Muahahahahaha--’

My mental evil laugh was interrupted by the beeping. ‘Aw, heeeeeeeell naw. It’s on, bitch! You’re going to regret the day you were made!’ I threw the covers off me and sat up. I reached over for the fucking bitch. I used both hands to yank the bitch’s cord out of the socket, I was not going to apologize for ruining her moment, and chucked it across the room, all the way in the corner. I sighed in content.

But then, the beeping kept going. By now, I was convinced it wasn’t the alarm clock bitch. So, I threw the covers off me, again, where they had, magically on their own, crawled back up my stomach over my head to encase me in the cocoon of delightful warmth. I hefted my feet over the edge of the bed, and slowly stood up. I had a sudden dizzy spell and sat back down. I pushed my lazy ass of the edge of the bed and placed it on the ground and started stretching like a cat, until I felt every bone in my back pop. ‘Oh yeah… That’s the shit right there.’ Once I finished my daily morning stretch, I crawled over to Mr. Bunny. I picked him up, his head falling back limply, and stared at the seams, checking if I had to re-stitch any of them. He looked pretty intact and ready to face the day with me. I looked at myself in the mirror.

My hair sticking up at weird angles that defied gravity, my eyes half-closed and blood-shot, my skin on the paler side of healthy. ‘Stupid immune system, always acting up at the turn of the season… And it’s summer!!! Ugh!!! Stupid body of mine, why you no like me?!?!?!’ I quickly got over think-yelling at my reflection and turned to make my way downstairs. ‘Time to find out whatever wishes to die today. That thing woke me up from my peaceful dream!!! It’s asking to be murdered – I mean, accidentally fall in front of an chain saw that just happened to be on… … … Mr. Bunny did it!!! I swear… Oh, shut the fuck up you stupid bastard, with your cute little suit and fluffy tail and ears… I’m getting off topic, Oh, shut the fuck up you stupid bastard!!!’ (And yes, I talk to my stuffed animal through my head, we just have a connection like that, don’t judge me!!!)

Anyway, I looked back at my reflection to assess my clothes. My pajama bottoms, ones with little kitties all over, were twisted around at a very uncomfortable angle, my tank top pulled far too low for my comfort, showing too much of my neon green sports bra. ‘Ugh, why can’t I go to sleep looking okay and wake up looking the same way? I look like I went through a tornado in the middle of the night. God!’ … I shrugged my shoulders and continued on with what I – I mean, what Mr. Bunny was going to do. *cough cough*

I made my way down the stairs. Me and my smooth self, tripped over the second step and, quite ungracefully, fell down the stairs. Once I hit rock bottom, I thought ‘Though I don’t think there is a graceful way to fall down the stairs. Hmm… New life goal: Find a way to fall down the stairs gracefully. Noted and stored.’ I furrowed my brow, thinking back to my alarm clock, ‘Shouldn’t I be calling my alarm clock a bastard and not a bitch. I mean, it’s the one with the plug, meaning… I think I get the idea. If it had a socket, then it would be a bitch… You know what Self? What? I think I’m just going to call it a motherfucker, that’s unisexual. Yeah, the alarm clock is now a motherfucker.’ I smiled and nodded my head, quite awkwardly since I was still on the floor with my feet on top of my head. I placed my hands, palms down, on the floor, and slowly lifted my body off the ground. I straightened my legs out and brought them forward, bringing my body with them – gymnastics really was useful for something. I turned around and bent down to pick up Mr. Bunny.

I walked into the kitchen, as if I didn’t just fall down a flight, a really long flight, of stairs. I stopped in the doorway, my jaw to the floor, my eyes bugging out of my skull… ‘… … …’

“What the…? How the…? Why in the…? … … … HUH?” I had nothing to say. There was food EVERYWHERE! There was food on the table, the counter, and the island; the floor, the walls, and the ceiling; the windows, the fridge, and the culprits. I narrowed my eyes into slits, “What in the FUCK did you IDIOTS do NOW?!?!?!”

“Weeeeeell, ya see…” QB, a.k.a. Quadruple B a.k.a. Big Bad Brother Brian a.k.a. my idiot brother, said. Ugh, the dumbass totally messed up my kitchen. ‘This is why I tell those idiots to stay the fuck away from my domain: the kitchen, the dining room (unless we have company for dinner), the master bedroom suite a.k.a. my room, and the office a.k.a. MY office.’

“They were just trying to be nice…?” Toto, a.k.a. Christopher a.k.a. my best friend, said. He stood over by the corner, the fridge shielding him from further damage to his favorite jeans. ‘He is soooooo lucky that I like him, or he would be dead, like these two are going to be; instead, I’ll beat him within an inch of his life.’

“Calm down, bitch. It’s not like we fucking burned the damn house down,” Connor, a.k.a. my best enemy, said, his eyes narrowed at my pouty face. I don’t understand why people say their “worst enemy” when that person obviously puts up a challenge for them, so instead, I say my “best enemy”. And rightfully so. One time, he came to wake me up, and I wouldn’t. So you know what he did? He brought in dirt from the yard and laid it down right by my bed, poured water on it to turn it to mud, and tied a bucket of cold water to my wrist for when I move. I am sad to say that it worked. I moved my arm and was drenched in cold water, I threw the covers off me and made to destroy him, but of course, I couldn’t because of all the mud at the side of my bed. By the time I got downstairs to kill him, I was shivering from the cold water, coated in a thick layer of mud, had fallen down repeatedly on the second floor, fallen down the stairs, and fallen down a few times on the first floor, before finally coming to the family room, where him and the ENTIRE football team were. They didn’t let it go for about a month. But I coated his new car, inside and out, in mud, so I got even.

Anyway, I walked into the kitchen, careful not to step on any of the food until I stood in the middle of it. I took a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth… I counted to ten… I counted to ten, again… I took another deep breath through my nose and let it out back through my nose, my anger only climbing as I continued to look at the mess. I pointed a shaking hand to the door, “Get… Out… NOW!!!” Toto left with his head down, QB with a pleading look on his face, Connor with a smirk. A goddamn SMIRK! The motherfucker…

Brief Change of POV: Brian

I had just settled down on the floor of the living room when I heard her scream. I felt even worse. I mean, I knew not to go into the kitchen, but I was just trying to do something nice for her. Ya know, give her a day off of taking care of us. Us taking care of her, for a change. I hung my head, I fucked up big time. I squeezed my eyes tight as she let out another ear-piercing scream.

Original POV: Willow

Once they were gone, I opened my mouth to let out a sigh, but a scream came out instead. I let it ring through the house before thoughts started coming through my mind. ‘I know they heard me – I’m sure the whole neighborhood heard – and they better feel bad for what they did. I don’t care if I was acting like a three-year-old, screaming because someone broke a toy of mine. I don’t care if I’m twenty-two acting immature. I feel like I’m seeing my first horror movie all over again.’ I opened my eyes slowly, a squeak coming out of my mouth at the destruction that I was going to have to clean up. I let out another glass-shattering scream. ‘And I thought it was going to be a good day,’ I thought, shaking my head. ‘I should’ve known when I first knew it was the fire alarm.’

I walked out the kitchen, going to the supply closet that was right as the end of the hall, by the stairs. I opened the door and pulled out rags, clorox, windex, stainless steel cleaner, fabuloso, a mop, a bucket, and a broom. I hefted everything into the doorway of the kitchen and got down on hands and knees and scrubbed, just like Cinderella, albeit a more tomboy-ish version.