Mornings and Monsters

     Headache. A sharp pain to the back of my eyes was the first thing I felt when I opened them for the first time since 5:00 in the morning when I closed them for the next four hours. Coffee was a thought not so far behind, so I started to swing my legs off my bed to make a fresh pot. I caught myself from stepping on Cory, who was sleeping on the floor next to my bed in a way that can only be comfortable for a contortionist. Or Cory. I looked around my room to find Ben lying on the floor near the closet, on a makeshift mattress made from extra pillows. Spencer was already up, with a look of death on his face.

     “'Morning, Sunshine,” I mumbled, already sarcastic with less than thirty seconds into the new day. I've done better.

     “Mm,” Spencer replied with his eyes fixed on his laptop. He probably didn't even go to bed, and he's the one who has to work in a couple of hours. I saw this as more justification for caffeine.

     “Want some coffee?”

     “Mm.” Such a chatterbox. He was putting the finishing touches on a castle that we spent three hours building last night in Minecraft. But knowing us, the finishing touches involved covering the project with TNT. I made sure to step over Cory, made my way upstairs to the kitchen, and started getting the coffee ready. My mom was sitting in her recliner in the living room reading some book.

     “How was the slumber party?” I glared at her. She knows I hate it when she calls it that. “You guys sleep at all?”

     “A couple hours. Try not to talk so loud.” My head was in serious need of coffee. A pin dropping would probably make me wince. It would probably take about five to ten minutes to brew, so I went downstairs. The sound of Mom's gut laughter trailed down the stairway. Must have been something funny in the book. It's a good thing I walked away, as Mom's laughter is known to shake foundations of houses. My head would have exploded.

     Cory was still asleep on the floor. Wonderful. Ben and Spencer looked at me with a look of worry. Rule #3 of Cory: You don't wake him up. Ever. And everyone has a first time. That moment when you don't think about it. You don't think there's anything to think about. You just reach out, and give him a little nudge.

     The next minute will be a terrifying tornado of screaming, flailing, scratching and more screaming. You don't know what was going on in his dreams. You don't want to know. This is a man who was institutionalized. Twice. As a child. So, giving the man some time to wake up on his own is a good idea.

     My room was a mess of half-empty Mountain Dew cans and bags of terrible store brand chips. It smelled of toxic gasses that only four men in a small room can replicate, and there was a spirit of exhaustion looming in the very air we breathed, along with a dense fog of humidity that made it hard to breathe. The night before was packed-full of movie watching, random video game playing, and charging into a chasm in Minecraft while Queen's “Don't Stop Me Now” blasted in the background. In short: We were warriors. Ben looked up at me from his pillow mattress. “Is there coffee?” Okay, maybe not warriors.

     “Good morning to you too, Ben. And yeah, I'm making a new pot. How'd you sleep?”

     “Wonderfully. These thin cotton sacks feel like clouds. Especially on hardwood floors.” Apparently we all wake up with sarcasm in mind. “Is there coffee?”

     “You already asked that. Yes, I'm making it now.”

     “That's not coffee. That's potential coffee. I need now coffee.”

     “Whatever. Spencer, you still want coffee too, right?”

     “Mm.” Spencer answered, ever-so eloquently.

     “Cool. And Cor-” I stopped myself before I woke up the sleeping homicidal giant. I don't need another thrashing. Especially with this headache. I'll make him a cup and he can have it if he wants it. It's good to play it safe in these situations.

     I went upstairs again to check on the status of the coffee. Still brewing. And this headache isn't getting any better. I stayed upstairs to look for ibuprofen in the mess of cabinets we had in our new house. Much better than the old house. I believe I've mentioned the old house. Roof collapsed? In my room? Yeah, that one. This one is much nicer. It even came with a roof.

     The next sound I heard was a mix of fear and ferocity. Crap. Somebody must have nudged him. I ran downstairs even though my head was beating itself into submission, and found Cory wildly spinning fists around the room and screaming his head off.

     “Somebody do something!” I yelled over the sounds of nightmarish terror. Ben was huddled in the closet, safe from Cory's reach, and Spencer was standing on my bed in the far corner of the room, keeping his distance. Seeing that I wasn't going to get any help from them, I did what the rest of them couldn't do.

     I went upstairs.

     After hearing the cries and yells die down, I slowly made my way back to my room to see chips and soda cans scattered all across the floor. Ben and Spencer were still in there respective corners of the room, Spencer was actually whimpering a little, and Cory was standing in the middle, heaving in and out like Bruce Banner after de-hulkifying, complete with ripped shirt. He looked at me with wild crazy eyes, twitched his head like some horror movie villain, and sniffed. I braced myself for the worst. This is it. This is the day he finally kills one of us. Dammit, we all thought it was going to be Spencer!

     “Ooh! Do I smell coffee?” Cory asked, unexpectedly. He pushed me aside and ran upstairs to make himself a cup. The rest of us had a simultaneous sigh of relief.
     "Well, that was close. I thought he was going to kill you." Ben said, feigning worry. He was just glad Cory didn't go after him.
     "Yeah, I always thought he would go after ME, if anyone." Spencer added. We all nodded in agreement. After that, we all went upstairs, made ourselves some coffee, and let Cory have his space. After all, he could be sleepwalking. Although, that only happened once.