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Chip can't reach his super cool big sister. No matter how much he whines and cries outside of her room, knocking and knocking until tears flowed down his face and snot dripped out of his nose.
Inside, Zip was screaming her head off, trashing the room she slept in.
He was hungry.
He didn't want to be selfish. Being selfish made his papa leave. Being selfish made his momma come home very late and stinky. He couldn't start being loud, even if his eyes were wet and his throat felt like a squeaky toy and if his belly hurt.
The boy sat for who knew how long, big boy emotions boiling under his little boy skin.
His body froze, hearing the slam of the front door. It was loud. The stench of alcohol stabbed his nose, making his eyes even more watery.
He didn't want momma to find out about Zip being a meanie in her room, ‘cause then momma would scream for a long time. She would make the house cold, and Chip didn't like that. He reached up, up, up to turn the door knob and slip inside. His soft footfalls didn't alert the sobbing girl, curled up like a discarded wad of chewed up paper. Claw marks raked the walls, torn up drawings made by Chip and ripped paper airplanes not made by Chip. He waddled closer, careful to dodge all the bits of metal that were strewn across the floor from a fit of rage not long ago. Zip's skin was a lot tougher than her little brother's, she would say.
Chip doesn't like going into Zip’s room. Cries wracked her body, as Chip sat down next to her. He was hesitant to touch her, because at times she was nice Zip and sometimes she was mean Zip.
His hand met cloth, his body thrown back.
It was meanie Zip.
“DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME.” she snarled at him, her form shaking. Chip didn't like hearing mean words. But Zip wasn't feeling okey dokey, and momma was gonna hear them if she kept being loud.
So he crawled closer to her, patting the ground as he approached. It was his signal that momma was here.
“Oh, that whore.” Chip’s lips wobbled a little. He doesn't like the words she was saying, but at least she was quieter. “That fucking slut is crawling back, huh? I hate her. I don't care if her car crashes.”
Chip, in the back of a mind, recalled his momma saying those exact words.
Zip was becoming his momma and it scared him. She looked into his wet eyes, rage filling her core. “What did you say about me?”
Oh no. Chip said it out loud again. Zip's claws flexed, and Chip covered his head. She looked above him, her face twisted in rage and other big emotions he didn't know.
He could hide his other marks, but his face was hard to excuse. He shut his eyes super tight, because he thinks it helps with the ouchies.
The blow never came.
A weak, choked sob escaped Zip's mouth, her hands instead reaching to pull Chip close. “I'm so…so…so fucking sorry, Zipster. Please, please you're such a good brother I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, please believe me!” he hiccuped a little, but hugged her back. She held onto him like a lifeline. “I love you so much and i-im so sorry, you're the quietest, nicest little brother I could ever have please please please I just- I just got mad, you know that!”
Her words felt empty, to make herself feel better. It's okay to Chip. Empty words, like the praise he would get when he got a C+ from Miss Thavel, failing the talking part of his school day. It made them feel better about themselves, and that's what matters.
He was being held like a fragile object, Zip rocking back and forth to soothe her frazzled nerves.
Chip was still hungry, being he wasn't sure Zip would make dinner today. That's okay. They don't got snacks, but Chip can just wait until school tomorrow. Her claws squeezed his fish costume, kneading the plush fabric.
He led the sniveling older girl to her torn up bed, but was unable to escape her ironclad grip. He was still hungry, but his own big boy emotions didn't matter right now.
His tummy hurt for a bit, keeping him awake until Zip's hands went lax, lulled into a shaky sleep. After that, he scrambled out to scamper downstairs.
He likes spaghetti.
After snuffling through the pantry, he mourned the loss of pasta. However, he did find sauce and weird seashells. They were the same color as his spaghetti, so they could taste the same?
He could hear labored hacking from behind him, as his momma stumbled into the room. He looked up at her, standing on a stool to reach the pots and pans.
Momma cries that night too, hugging him and babbling, a sad stinky momma. She helped him make the tasty special spaghetti, and after letting him try to braid her hair. Chip and his momma got to talk for a loooong time, and it was really cool! He was tucked into bed, kicking his feet this was and that while his momma chuckled.
“Stay pure, baby.” She murmured, stroking his hair before she left. “Never be like your sister.”
Chip woke up, walking to school early. Zip and his momma we're still sleeping, so he fixed his super cool big sister a lunchie, making a little mess but that's okay! He jumped on the stool to lock the door behind him.
Later, he wondered why Zip was crying again. She pulled him up into a biiiiug hug, a bit of sauce on her cape thingy. She was smiling a lot, but she was crying? Chip cries when he's sad, so Zip’s sad too. But why? Did he do something wrong? He went and hugged her which made her cry even more.
He’s sorry.