I'm Not Crazy

~31~ Sweet dreams are made of these

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I travel the world
And the seven seas,
Everybody's looking for something...

Eurythmics ~ Sweet Dreams

👽👽👽

Under the rising moonlight, we watching the last of the fading light of the dusky sun die out over the Wolf Woods. So after almost nice pizza dinner with my monster, I take my leave of him and head back into the Madhouse proper. Billy decides to sleep out in the carriage barn with the dogs. So I'm thinking that he probably just needs to be with his own kind for a while.

By the time I drag myself back myself back into the Casa de Crazy, I am too tired to go on any longer. It's been an unbelievably long day since I last saw my bed. I finished my finals at RFK, went to a party, almost witnessed a murder, and had a moonlit pizza dinner with my monster in Wolf Woods. At this point, drop-dead tired is a freaking understatement.

I slow crawl up the stairs to the second floor and drift down the hallway into my room. I don't even bother to wash up or change into my usual sleeping sweats. I just slough out of my Shlubby's mid-step, crawl headfirst under the covers of my unmade bed and just breathe.

As the stress and bullshit of the day slowly starts to fade away, the sweet sounds of the madhouse drift over me. I can hear a rhythmic thumping emanating from Tommy's attic room above me. Which I am hoping to hell that is just Tommy's techno trash, and not Tommy and Jinni going at it like wild animals. Someone starts the water in the shower, or is taking a seriously long leak in the boy's bathroom urinal shower? But it's sorta hard to tell which by anything other than the duration.

It is slowly starting to dawn on me that this is my so-called crazy life now. And what's even crazier is that I'm okay with that? I guess all it took was cleaning up the aftermath of an almost murder to really make this Madhouse feel like a real home.

My body turns back into mello-jello, and I am gently drifting away into that goodnight. Until the soft knock on my door alerts me to one more round of talking time, before the day is done and I can rest my weary head.

"What now?" I murmur.

"It's just me, is it safe to come in?" Stevie pushes open my door enough to slide an eyeball through the jam crack.

"Not really," I eye bone him right back.

Stevie ignores my dire warning, and silently slips into my room, quietly closing the door behind him. After which he immediately tumbles down onto my fuzzy duvet next to me.

"So how bad is it out there in the doghouse?" He smirks mischievously.

"It is what it is, at least for now anyways." I shrug under the covers. But even a simple shrug seems to take way too much effort on my part. "I think he's gonna sleep out with the rest of the dogs for a while, if that's any indication?"

"So the usual then." He nods slowly.

"Yeah sure, why not." I sigh. "So how's Tommy doing?"

"What do you think? It's always Sex O'clock somewhere in the world." Stevie snarks derisively up at my ceiling.

"So the usual." I snort in agreement.

"Pretty much," Stevie snorts in retort.

"So Stevie?" I eye him hard through the duvet. "When were you planning on telling me about all that noise?"

"Telling you about 'all that noise' what now?" Stevie blinks back his long lashes down at me in feign innocence.

It's taken me a little while to catch on to this little lying-ass trick to his. But I've finally figured out something about my little gay brother to be. The more nervous he gets, the gayer he starts to seem to me. His sweet falsetto tone of voice, with the faux-innocent facial expressions. Not to mention, all the big unnecessarily flamboyant hand gestures that go with all that super stereotypically glee gay.