[Disclaimer]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Generalized as a science fictional work. Written in English. May include harsh themes, strong language, violence, sexual scenes, horror, and drug abuse.
Technical ang grammatical errors ahead. Comments and suggestions, either fair or awful, are critically acknowledged.
The Travis Trouble
Written by TheManOfViiiVMmiv
Copyright © 2021 All Rights Reserved
Plagiarism is a crime.
* * *
A vulture fed on dead horses. It teared every flesh poor nags had. It drank the sticky blood every steed possessed. In other words, ‘death already came.’
Travis suddenly woke up, sweating heavy and chasing breath. “That was a strange dream.”
He put his indoor slippers on and stood up. He stretched his arms then yawned.
He saw the moonlit terrace in peace. He never minded time, so he went downstairs and directly went to the kitchen.
When in there, he opened the refrigirator and got a flagon of cold water.
He poured water into a glass and drank it. “Ugh. That's better.”
He again make steps back into his room. He lied down on the cozy bed and started thinking what was his nightmare was all about. But, he could not think of something because of the tiredness happened to him yesterday.
He almost closed his heavy eyelids when his mother called him. “Travis!”
“What?!” he yelled back.
“I just thought you were someone roaming at the kitchen!” his mother explains.
He did not reply anymore. He felt he could not fight the exhaustion so he closed his eyes.
The night passed, Travis went early for breakfast. He already did not wait for the alarm clock set at 6 a.m.
He wore his slippers then went out of his room.
While going down the stairs, he found his mother fixing the dining table silently. He could vastly smell the aroma cups of hot chocolate had. His mother prepared for the family because the maids were in their day off. Glasses of hot chocolate, vegetable salad, macaroons, and a flagon of warm water are set on the table.
He then pulled a chair and sit on it wondering why their maids were absent. “Where's Miss Fei . . . and Miss Lyn, Mom?”
“I told them to take some rest, Son,” his mother said.
“But who will clean the whole house?” he replied emptily. “Me?”
“No one, Son.”
“This could be messy.”
“We're goin' to Hawaii for a vacation, remember?”
He stopped chomping the chewy cabbage in his mouth when her mother again told him about the planned out-of-town vacation. “Oh. I forgot it.”
“Silly you.” His mother grinned and sit on the chair beside him. “Sweetie Pie! Tara! Come on here! Breakfast is ready!”
Travis ate more macaroons, he choked but was able to drink water quickly. “Ugh. These are great, Mom.”
“Miss—”
“What ingredients have you bought to make these, Mom,” Tara—Travis' little and only sister—interrupted her mother, trying to grab one of the macaroons.
“I didn't make them,” her mother sipped a mouthful of got chicolate, “Miss Fei did.
“Oh,” Travis said, “great tho.”
“Why ‘tho?’” his father asked.
He put a small fragment eggshell out of his mouth. “The production failed.”
Tara laughed childishly. “Travis, ready for The Aloha State?”
“Tho I forgot about it,” he then replied while swallowing a spoonful of chewed lettuce, “I find it exciting.”
“Alright, alright,” their father told, “finish first our breakfast then go take your baths.”
Tara was still at the table with their parents when Travis stood up. “I now go take a bath.”
His parents nodded, Tara stared at him madly, chewing some cabbage. He went upstairs and then in his room.
He put his clothes off of his body. He went in his bathroom and started showering.
He was massaging his hair with shampoo when he heard a voice, a strange articulation. ‘Ruined future, Travis.’
“Who's that? Mom? Dad?” he panicked. “Tara? Tara, was that you? Come on.”
No one answered. Tara was still eating with their parents.
He lightly opened the shower then washed his head.
After that, he stayed still, trying to hear if there was someone in his room.
When he was already in towel, he slightly opened the door of his bathroom but really found no one in his room. He guessed he only was hallucinating so he went out of the bathroom.
The weather was very hot that dried leaves could be burnt with the help of magnifying glasses. He stare at the window of his room. He found the weather way too hot so he put a white, thin sleeveless undershirt and a denim shorts out of his closet.
He wore his chosen clothes and took a smile and a deep breath at the mirror. “Vacation at last, Travis.”
He then packed his set of clothes he would wear in Hawaii—sleeveless undershirts, shorts, a pair of slipper, and toiletries.
He also wore his pink headband given by her little sister as a gift in his eighteenth birthday. “Cool tho.”
When all were ready, he opened the door and went downstairs.
He found Tara in a pink jacket and a jogging pants with also a pink headband. “Tara, how come wear that kinda clothes? It's hot there in Hawaii.”
“I know,” Tara said so. “But . . . never mind. You won't get it either.”
“Get what?”
“Nothing.”
Before the situation got worse, their mother already broke their conversation, “stop and get yourselves goin', you guys.”
“Ugh!” Tara exclaimed and directly went out of the house.
“Slow yourself, Tara!” their mother told. “Rush hours in progress, Tara!”
“I'm not a child anymore, Mom!”
“Yeah, not a child anymore,” Travis followed Tara in the van their parents reserved for service to the airport, “but a toddler.”
“Don't make my day bad, Thick-witted Travis.”
“Should I be scared, Toddling Tara?”
“Gay!”
“Anemic.”
“Gay! Gay! You're gay!”
“Anemically anemic.” Travis laughed harshly.
Their mother heard them quarreling, she opened the door and shouted, “You guys, stop!”
“It was Travis' first move.”
“Yikes! Not mine.”
“Right, right,” their mother went in front of them. “Just go in now.”
Travis and Tara then entered the car.
Their father went in the car with their sets of stuff—baggage of clothes, needs, and other private things.
When all were packed readily, their father said so to the driver, “You can now drive, mister.”
The driver nodded smilingly. The car went in action.
Seconds passed, Travis noticed his phone vibrated.
He got it and opened the message tab. “Oh no.”
He forgot to tell his friend—Jake—about the trip. He replied back to Jake telling he would call him soon.
“What are you lookit at, Travis?” Tara interrupted his silence.
“Don't care . . . please.” he replied back.
“Whatevs.”
Their father opened a snack, he gave some to Tara and Travis.
Travis opened a pack and smelled its aroma. “My favorite.”
Tara pouted. “As if potato chips are your fave, duh.”
“Of course, they are.” He munched a mouthful of chips.
Minutes passed, the skies went royal azure when the sun was the highest of all.
Travis looked over the running van and saw lines and rows of maple trees. “Here it is.”
“So weird,” Tara rolled her eyes and went lay her bed on a pillow, “yuck.”
“One more tease and,” he showed her whole fist to her sister, “you'll get what you want.”
“Mom,” Tara exclaimed, “look at this thick-witted one.”
“Stop, you guys.” Their mother smiled widely. “We're here already.”
Travis looked outside the vehicle and saw the long silver bars beside them. He quickly got his backpack and earphone.
He opened the door, causing Tara to panic. “Slow yourself, Travis.”
“Don't care,” he then replied with a wink.
Tara jokingly choked herself. Travis did not do anything but ignore her.
When on the ground, he stomped at it, to prove that he was not dreaming. “Hawaii!”
“Quiet, Travis,” their father commanded.
“Oh no,” Tara teased, “he's banned.”
“Rude.” Travis just looked at the sky.
He breathed in the fresh air every single tree was releasing. He put out his phone and took a picture of the royal azure sky. He smiled when the clarity and sentimentality was seen in the image clearly.
“Now what, Mom?” Tara pouted.
“We'll go there,” her mother put out her finger on the private jet his husband rented, “and ride in flight.”
“Yes!” Travis exclaimed. “I wonder who's the one who fears height. Or should I say . . . an acrophobic person.”
“Am no acrophobic.” Tara held her mother's rigt hand, rolling her eyes on his brother.
