• I hate him. Sitting there, stuffing his face like some sort of pig. The overly indulged brother of mine. There is a lack of silence at the dinner table tonight, John's football team just won another game, so Father was ecstatic. Mother smiled and nodded a couple of times. Dumb broad. I'd refuse to eat as long as she did the cooking. I just sat there staring at those idiots. I hate them all. John suddenly pushes me off my chair and shoves my untouched dinner into his mouth. I hope he chokes on it.
    "John? Are you okay?" My mother's panicking voice causes me to look up.
    John is ,indeed, choking on my dinner. I am forced to hide the intense joy I feel. That's right, John, I hope you die choking.
    "Oh my god, John!" It's my father's voice this time.
    John's face is all swelled and blue before he falls to the floor. My father shoves me off to the side. I stand up slowly, looking at them all. They are fussing over the fat corpse of their precious son. This time, I can't contain my joy. I laugh manically. I throw my head back and laugh so hard, I cry. "Oh, this should be fun," I thought to myself.