This time I was "inspired" by Anisha's piece of writing. :) Same thing as last time, making it up as I go along...

-Constructive criticism-

Everything was happening in an agonizingly slow way, every movement inching forward bit by bit. I couldn't do anything but watch as she grabbed the pills I had just helped her gather off the floor and shove them into her mouth once more. I couldn't do anything but watch as I saw her throat swallow and carry a fatal amount of drug store medication down to her stomach. I couldn't do anything as I stood there, leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen where she was squatting. Even as she stood and locked herself into her room, at a snail's pace, I couldn't do anything except be pushed down to the floor in slow motion, and see the accusing look in my cousin's eyes as I sat on the floor, my eyes wide in shock and horror at what I had just done.

"Nice job-" She whispered cruelly.

"SAM!" A voice woke me up from my nightmare as I jolted out of bed, my hands grasping at what ever I could grab in my vicinity, my blanket, the sheets, my dog's tail...everything.

Exhaling forcefully with stress and lethargy embedded in every one of my muscles, I stretched and looked up at the ceiling.

"Should probably get up..." I muttered to myself drowsily. Sighing, I pulled out my cell phone from underneath my pillow...and jumped out of bed.

"Arrrghhh! I'm gonna be late!" I hissed under my breath as I raced to the connected bathroom (the only bathroom in our apartment) hitting many dangerous obstacles on the way-the wall, a stool, the vacuum, they were all out for me!

Nursing a throbbing pain in my shin, I impatiently waited for my older sister to finish with the sink.

When I'm at the sink and running late, she shoves me out of the way but when I'm still in the same situation and she's on time, I have to wait... I thought privately, annoyed.

Not that I'd ever speak my words aloud.

Because one, somehow I know her threats of shaving off my eyebrows when I sleep or smashing my computer, or something else equally disastrous, were completely probable. At least-even if it meant being a complete pushover-I stayed eyebrow-ed and with a source of entertainment and an outlet for my creative bursts of energy.

She finally finished as I looked up into my mirror and pushed my floppy hair back with a hairband and tied my difficult masses of russet hair back into a loose bun.

Staring into the mirror after a cold splash, I saw my own reflection in my reflection's clear green eyes...then I splashed my face again, hoping to wake myself up a little more.

Ends there forevermore because when I saved this as a draft, I forgot that only when I'm "in the moment" can I make stories powered on inspiration from someone else's writing...

Hope you enjoyed.