The high school Romance

It happened last week, in the playground at our school. I was sitting on one of the swings, slowly swaying back and forth. While I swung, I happened to look over at the slide. There, flying down the gold channel, was Amy. I smiled, looking at her perfect brown hair, and her sweet, angelic face. Her eyes sparkled in the sun like gemstones, and her lips glowed cherry red. I called “Amy!” I thought I saw her glance towards me, but then her gaze shifted to someone else. That someone just happened to be Chester Gild, another boy in our grade. He smiled as he caught her eye, and I realized he had been watching just like I had. I felt my face grow warm, and hid the sudden emotion by pulling my ball cap down over my tomato-red face. Amy flew off the slide and landed on her worn ballet flats. Chester clapped, and Amy bowed. Then she casually walked over, and sat next to him on his bench. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and I swear he started whispering something in her ear. She laughed at something he said, and then sighed, burrowing her face deeper into his shoulder. He shifted closer to her, and put his hand on her knee. Then was where I stopped watching. I felt sick to my stomach. I quickly got off the still-moving swing. As I stomped past them, Amy looked up. She saw the anger in my eyes, and pursed her lips. Amy whispered something to Chester, and then got up. He let her off his lap reluctantly, and then glared at me suspiciously as Amy followed me to one the picnic tables. I went to one that was far away from Chester, and sat down. She plopped down next to me, and looked at my hands, clenched at my side.
“Jason?” she asked. She took my hand, and gently pulled my fingers apart. There were angry, red marks in my palm from my nails biting into my skin. She sighed when she saw them, and looked into my eyes, her green eyes searching for the source of my distress.
“Why?” I finally asked. She furrowed her brow in confusion, and then opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t-” I cut her off, squeezing her fingers.
“Why were you with Chester?” I asked, putting as much disgust behind the name as I could. Her eyes hardened, and she squeezed my hand even harder than I had, hard enough to make it hurt. I winced, and she abruptly stopped. When she looked into my face and saw that my eyes were still glaring at her, she sighed.
“I’m sorry…” she said, with difficulty. She obviously thought I shouldn’t be bothered by her toying with other guys while we were dating. I raised my eyebrows, and she sighed again. “I started talking to Chester two nights ago, at the roller rink when you never showed,” she glared at me. “We haven’t done anything, just a little talking, nothing for you to be worried about.” Hearing her say it like that, with so much innocence, was like swallowing a golf ball. I tried to change my expression into a more understanding appearance, but it turned out as a grimace. I groaned, and pulled my hand from her grasp.
“I didn’t think this would work out from the beginning,” which was true; I had had doubts about us being in a relationship like this since she had asked me out a month ago. Suspecting that she would get bored of me, I had kept our relationship distant, so that when she did ask for a break, it would be a clean one. So far, she hadn’t asked, though, and I was beginning to believe she actually loved me; until this. She sighed in frustration, and smacked my knee. I turned my head to face her.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” She asked angrily. “I love you. Okay? Haven’t I told you that countless times?” I let her get her anger out of her system, and took her accusations with a straight face. “Just because I might flirt with some other guys doesn’t mean that I want to marry them.” She rambled on for a few more minutes about her pledging her undying love to me. Finally, she closed her mouth, and sat still, staring straight ahead.
“I’m sorry Amy.” I finally said.

Friends Poem

Friends are like a new pair of jeans
At first they might seem too tight,
Or too loose,
They could be scratchy,
Or too bright
But after a few gentle washings, and cycles,
They become soft, and just right
They fit perfectly,
Like they were made just for you
And you wouldn’t trade them for any other.

tic tac teeth; part 6

“The next few weeks went by in a blur,” he continues, frowning at the memory. “I felt like it was my fault that they were gone…” Suddenly Simon leans forward, and I catch him before he falls to the ground. I realize that tears are spilling down his cheeks. “I made them leave!” he cries, his eyes wild. He clings to me and I drop to the ground because I can’t hold him. “It’s all my fault that they never found Layla.” Barney the concierge suddenly appears behind me.
“Mr. Keen!” he cries. I help him support the hysterical man to the counter. We lean him against the wood surface while Barney catches his breath. Finally he looks up with his face flushed. “Thank you,” he says in a wheezy voice. “We should probably take him up to his room.” I look at Simon, who is silent, and notice for the first time that he looks exhausted. There are dark, purple shadows under his eyes, and his face is bristly with unshaved hair. As I notice this, he leans his head against the polished wood surface and nods off. Deep snoring starts a minute later. I sigh.
“I guess we have to now.” I say with reluctance. I don’t really want to carry a sleeping man up who-knows-how-many flights of stairs.
“Let’s take him up the elevator.” Barney says, obviously thinking the same thought I was. I grab Simons arm, and Barney takes his other arm. As we pass the wall of spare apartment keys, Barney slides one off the hook and pockets the tiny card. When we enter the elevator Barney tells me to press the button for level five. I press my finger against the shiny, circular button, and it flashes under my touch. As the elevator slowly crawls up to the fifth level, Barney suddenly clears his throat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier, Ms. Gumby.” He gives me a sheepish grin. He holds up the tiny card he had grabbed earlier. “Here is your key card, apartment 310, level five.” He says while handing me the card.

HELP!!!!

I need help! You know my story...tic tac teeth? I don't know what else to write about it! I even considered throwing the whole thing in the garbage. If you have an idea of how I should continue it, please share!

Endeaver

Last week I went to Florida to see the launch of the shuttle Endeaver. Our friend, Heidi Marie Stefanyshyn-Piper (thats her whole name!!! and thats also her up in the picture) is one of the crew members on the shuttle. They called this mission "extreme home improvement", because they are bringing up two "bedrooms" and one "bathroom" to the international space station. One of the crew members is actually staying up there! Heidi will get to make three space walks hopefully while she is up there.

The launch took place at Cape Canaveral, and it literally lit up the whole sky. It looked like the sun as it went up in a ball of fire. It was really interesting, because it was right next to the moon, and it lit it up so you could see it really clearly.

It took a few seconds for the sound to reach us (we were 6.4 miles away!) but it was reallyyyyyy loud. They told us that if you are in one mile of the launch, you die. If you are two miles from the launch, you will be permenantly deaf. If you are three miles, you might suffer short loss of hearing, but it could also be permenant damage. I hope the people who actually live close to it were underground or away.

When we were there they gave us pictures with the original signatures of all the crew members on them! It was really cool. We also got a poster and some pins. Also, we've been getting daily emails from Heidi's husband (Glenn Piper) with pictures that she and the crew have taken and emailed to family.

The shuttle is due to return one day or two days after thanksgiving.

Tic tac teeth; part 5

“I think it’s best I finish my story now.” Simon says. He clears his throat, and starts to talk, but I cut him off.
“Can we go somewhere else?” I ask, motioning towards the room. Thankfully, Simon nods, and follows me into the lobby. Barney is gone, probably on a break, and the desk is empty. I sit on one of the lumpy couches, and Simon sits across from me. I play with the rings on my fingers as he starts to speak.
“Arnold opened the door, as I said, and Isabelle was right behind him. She had a look of pure terror on her face. There were dark, purple, bruises on her face, and her lip was dripping blood. She held her arms behind her back, though I was sure there were marks on them too, in the clear shape of Arnold’s fat fingers. I was so stunned, that I almost forgot about Layla for a moment. “Who are you?” Arnold asked in a gruff voice. I shook my head, and started to tell him about Layla. “Your daughter came to my room tonight, and wanted to play a few games with me. She stayed at my apartment for awhile, then she went back to her.... or your apartment.” I told him. I went on to tell him about how she had disappeared after I had mentioned Mr. Durmy. Arnold showed no emotion at all while I told him about how Layla had said they were missing, but the whole time Isabelle’s eyes had been getting bigger and bigger, until they were the size of saucers. When I had finished telling them about this, Arnold had almost slammed the door in my face, but Isabelle restrained him. “That’s poppycock!” Arnold thundered. “Our daughter is asleep in her bed, and this conversation is over!” The door narrowly missed slicing off my ear as it slammed shut." He looks me straight in the eye as he says the next part. “Later in the night, I heard a timid knock on my door. It was Isabelle. She told me that Layla wasn’t in her room, and that she had been missing for the past week. She started to cry, and explained that Arnold didn’t think they needed to order a police file, and that Layla would just come home on her own. This explained why I hadn’t seen Layla until that night. She told me that Arnold hated Layla, because he wasn’t his blood related daughter. “She was from my first marriage”, she told me. Isabelle then told me to “stay out of it”, and that I should just forget about Layla. She said that she and Arnold could handle it.” He paused to take a breath. “She left me standing at the door, but I took her advice, and tried to forget about Layla. It wasn’t as easy as it would seem, though. I started to have nightmares about her, and would wake up frequently during the night. I started taking sleeping pills, and because of these I didn’t eat as much. I was becoming thin, and weak. I knew it had to stop. One day I decided I was going to go to the authorities and issue a report for Layla. However, when I opened the door to my apartment building, I saw Isabelle and Arnold walking down the hallway, holding in their arms a few boxes and bags. I rushed up to them, blocking their path. “Get out of the way!” Arnold boomed, but I stayed where I was. Looking into Isabelle’s violet eyes, I asked where are you going? “We’re getting away from you people in this apartment!” Arnold growled. Isabelle said nothing, but I could see tears beading at the edges of her almond eyes. Without a word, Arnold reached out an arm and pushed me out of the way. He took Isabelle’s arm, and dragged her down the hall after him. Isabelle looked back at me once, and there were tears streaming down her face. “Good bye…” Isabelle mouthed, and then she was gone around the corner, and out of sight.

tic tac teeth part; 4

“Wait!” I call. I rush after him, but he has disappeared. “Simon!” I call as I enter a dim hallway. There is one door, at the very end, and I approach it slowly. A draft suddenly sneaks up my dress, and I shiver. “Simon?” I call nervously. I reach the doorway, and peer into the open room. I reach out, and my hand disappears into the gloom. I warily enter the room, and run my hands along the wall, hoping to find a light switch; there is none. I think I hear a noise behind me, and whip around. There is no one there. I take a shaky breath and steady myself; this room has me feeling uneasy, and I almost consider returning to the lobby. Suddenly I hear a whisper.
“Who’s there?” I peer into the dark, trying to locate the person. I see a shape move in the far right corner the room. I can see a figure approaching me in the dim light coming from the doorway. The shape shrinks, until there is a little girl in front of me, probably no older than seven or eight. I think I've seen this girl before, though I don't know where. “Who are you?” She asks me, her voice is high, and scared. I smile, pushing down my apprehension. This girl is obviously as scared as I am.
“My name is Charlotte,” I say, straining to keep my voice steady. “What’s your name?” The girl looks uncertain for a moment, but then she smiles brightly.
“I’m Layla.” She says. I gasp, and my mouth hangs open.
“You’re L-Layla?” I say, backing away. She looks confused, and frustrated.
“Why are you going away?!” She screams, nearly shattering my eardrums. I put my hands to my ears to try to block out some of the noise. Her nose is running onto her white nightgown, and she pulls at her hair, ripping out big chunks of white-blond strands. Meanwhile, her body is also changing. Her once soft, and angelic face is becoming sharper. Her teeth have sharpened to points, and she bares them as she screams at me. "Where are you going?!" She sobs. Her voice is raspy, and her once violet eyes are now a milky white, with vibrant yellow dots in the centers.
"Go away!" I cry. Layla keeps coming towards me. I don't want to turn my back to her, but I know I need to get away from the demon. I take a deep breath and scream. Layla throws back her head and laughs. She looks at me with that sinister face, and smiles. Her teeth are stained red, and her tongue is large and blistered. "I will find you," She says, her remaining hair turning to creatures that snap their hideous teeth at me. I cry out as one of then clamps down on my hand. It leaves green saliva on my palm, and a deep cut on my left index finger.
"I will return." Layla says, and she retreats back into the room, the monsters on her head hissing and growling at me. She vanishes into the murk, with an evil smile on her face. I take a shaky breath, and my legs turn to jello. I fall to the ground without a sound. I crawl away from the room, which is now silent. Suddenly Simon skids into the room.
"Charlotte!" He cries. He kneels next to me. "What happened?" He asks, motioning to my hand. I look up at him.
"It was L-Layla. She...she came out of that room." I point to the open room. Simon places a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and then stands. He goes to the doorway and peers in.
"There's nothing in here Charlotte." He says, looking me over with concerned eyes.
"But she did! She came out of that room! I cry, though I know my story sounds crazy. "She said..."I will find you" and "I will return." Simon says nothing, but comes and helps me off the floor.

tic tac teeth: part 3

"Tell me about them," I say. "And this accident you mentioned."
Simon combs his fingers through his thick hair, trying to push it down. I watch him intently, waiting for him to answer me.
"Layla...now she was a strange one." He finally says, looking me in the eyes. He sighs, and seems uncomftorable, for he shifts and fidgets, straightens and restraightens his shirt. I reach out my hands and grasp his shoulders, keeping him still. He looks at me, suprised. When he starts to speak, I release him. "I almost never saw her, and when Arnold and Isabelle went out, Layla was never with them. At first I thought that of course they had someone watching her, but one day, while her parents were gone, who should come knocking at my door but Layla! I asked her what she wanted, and she told me that she was lonely, and wanted someone to play with. I was suprised that she was alone, but I let her into my apartment, and played games with her for the rest of the evening. Oh, we had a grand time, she was a great sport, and playing with her was challenging, yet pleasent at the same time. She was also very fun, and talkative. Around eight o'clock, she very suddenly told she had to go back to her apartment. I asked her if she was going to be fine, and she said she was. So I walked her to her room, and left. I had a snack, and then retired for the night. At about one o'clock, I heard frantic pounding on my door. I went to answer it, and Layla burst in. She was flushed, and out of breath. I tried to get her to drink something, but she refused. She wouldn't even sit down. Once she caught her breath, she told me that her parents had never come home, and that she was worried about them. I asked her when her parents usually came home, and she said they always came home at eleven, never later. I didn't think it was too serious a situation, but I told her I would contact the building manager and ask him to call if her parents came in. When I said this though, Layla did a very queer thing. She screamed and said that no, I could not tell anyone. I thought she was merrily playing with me, so I patted her back and told her it would be fine, that the manager would find her parents, and they would be safe and sound. She calmed down, and I went to dial Mr. Durmy, the manager at the time. After I had finished talking to him, I went back to my living room, to find Layla gone, and the front door wide open. I searched my entire apartment, all the time shouting for her to come out; she wasn't anywhere. I started to get frantic. Just think! A girl alone, roaming the halls, with her parents gone missing. I hurriedly put on my bathrobe and slippers, and skidded out the door. I scoured the halls, searching for the little, purple-eyed girl. I eventually brought my search to the lobby. My. Durmy was waiting at the desk, just like I had asked him to. I rushed to him and asked if he had seen Layla leave the building. He said "no" he had not seen Layla. I ran back upstairs, and to Layla's apartment. I pounded on the door, and heard sluggish footsteps approaching. My heart leaped, for I thought I had finally found Layla. Suddenly the door swung open, and who should be standing in the doorway, in rumpled pajamas, but Arnold himself!" Simon stops talking here, and takes a breath. "I need to get some water." He says, hurrying away. He dissapears through a doorway that I had not noticed before.

tic tac teeth; part 2

A lock of chestnut colored hair falls into his eyes as he shakes his head. He lifts an arm, and puts a finger on the little girl’s face. “That was Layla, and that was her mother, Isabelle.” His finger leaves the photograph, and moves to another frame. There is an old man, Layla, and Isabelle. They are all seated on a long couch, and even though it looks comfortable enough, they are all seated on the edge of the seat, as though they can’t wait to get off. Layla is smiling, and her hair is longer in this picture. Isabelle though, looks distressed, and when the picture was taken, she was caught glancing sideways at the man. The man doesn’t seem to notice and is smiling. A gold tooth glints at the edge of his mouth. “That’s Arnold, Isabelle’s husband.” His finger slides down the glass surface of the photo, until it drops off at the edge of the frame. He turns back to me, and his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Isabelle was such a sweet woman…Arnold didn’t deserve her. My only wish is that they hadn’t dragged Layla into that mess with them.” He suddenly looks very weak, as though he could topple over at any moment. I gently place my hand on his shoulder, steadying him. “Thank you.” He says. He leans against the wall and sighs deeply.
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be troubling you with my problems.” He straightens, puts on a bright smile, and offers me his hand. “My name is Simon, Simon Keen.” I shake his hand.
“Nice to meet you, my name is Charlotte Gumby.” His hand tightens on my fingers so briefly that I wonder if it even happened. He drops my hand, and I let it fall at my side.
“Ah, another Gumby,” He says. “Do you happen to be related to Gunther Gumby?” His eyes have a faraway look, like he’s not really listening for the answer. I can tell he is just stalling, trying to keep me here while he thinks something over. I smile; I’ve used this trick a countless many times before.
“I don’t think this is what you really want to talk about.” I say, and watch with satisfaction as his eyes flit back to me with surprise.
“It seems you have thought right, Charlotte.” He says with a smile.

tictac teeth; part 1

The streetlight casts a pool light around me. It is dark, outside this circle, and I feel like I’m safer here in the light. I wipe my sweaty hands on my dress, my dirt stained fingers leaving streaks against the red fabric. I don’t want to keep going, but I have to get home. I take a deep breath, and start to run. My sandals make out a steady rhythm on the wet concrete, and my heart thumps along with a similar beat. My dress flies out in all directions, and long pale legs are revealed. The scarf I had tied around my long blond hair comes undone, and falls to the ground, but I don’t stop to retrieve it. I can see the awning that shelters the front door of my apartment building coming into view, and I can already feel myself sinking into my soft bed. I reach the doors, and push them open. But it is a different place. The once familiar plants, couches, and chairs that decorated the lobby are gone, and are replaced with old antique furniture. I am breathing deeply, as I look around the new room. “Where am I?” I think to myself, as I walk towards the big desk. There is a lone typewriter in place of the row of computers that once inhabited this desk. A man is behind the desk. As I get closer to the desk, I realize it is Barney, the concierge that is always at this desk. I breathe a sign of relief. Barney hears me, and looks up from his newspaper. His face breaks into a friendly smile.“Hello miss, would you like a room?” He says.
“It’s me Barney,” I say. “Don’t you remember? I already own a room.” I look at him hopefully, but he still has that idiotic smile on his face.
“Would you like a room miss?” He asks again. I groan and turn back to the sitting area. The carpets are red, with black and blue specks. The couches are blue, with strange lumps bulging under the fabric in some places. I move to the nearest wall, which is not decorated. Water trickling downward has left long, dark lines running along the wall. I place a freshly manicured finger on the wall, just the tip, so I can feel the wet concrete. I spot a painting on the wall, of a little girl, and an older woman, probably her mother. There is a slight resemblance to the mother in the little girls face. She has a long, pointy nose, and big, purple eyes. Her mouth is just a line. A thin line that might be smiling, but at the same time it could be frowning. She is wearing a black sweater, and a long, grey, pleated skirt. The sweater partially covers a red blouse. Her short, blonde hair is limp, and hangs behind her ears like a mop. Her mother’s hair is long though, and is swept up on her head in an elegant bun. The woman is smiling, unlike the little girl, and I can see the tips of tiny, tic tac teeth. I don’t know why, but I am drawn to this picture in a sort of way. I know there are some others scattered on the walls, but I don’t want to look at them, I only have eyes for the little girl and her mother. I hear footsteps behind me, and goose bumps break out on my arms and legs. “She is a beauty isn’t she?” I turn around slowly, to find myself face to face with a man. He looks pretty young, maybe 25 or 30. He is wearing an old suit, and it looks like it needs to be ironed. He has a melancholy look on his face, as he looks at the girl and woman.
“Did you know them?” I ask.
“No, they lived next door to me, never got out much, those two.” He sighs. “I hadn’t even spoken five words to them when the accident happened.
“What accident?” I ask, looking at his face for the first time. His skin is lined with creases and folds. His eyes are grey, and almond shaped. His mouth is just a small dash of pink on his otherwise pale face.

The Floushinder 2!!!

Until then, I hadn't realized the sky was dark, and gray clouds hovered over the lake. I didn't want to go back home, but I didn't want to be out here either. For a few minutes I considered going back to my warm, cozy home, but then I decided against it. I would wait out here until the storm passed. I watched the clouds move across the sky, but new ones just kept coming. Soon, a shower of water fell from the sky. I sighed, and decided I would wait just a few more minutes before I headed back. I picked up a bone from the mouse skeleton I had missed. Surprisingly, the wood was fairly easy to carve into. In the water soaked sides, I carved MEADOW. The letters came out crooked and twisted, but it was good enough for me. Now it was time to go back to shore. I groped around in the dark, for my paddle. It wasn't where I had left it under my seat. I twisted and ran my hands all over the soaked boat, but it wasn't there. I breathed shakily, "maybe I dropped it while I was stopped, and didn't notice". I thought to myself. But if i had dropped it, wouldn't I have heard a splash? Beads of perspiration sprang up on my forehead. "I'll just have to use my hands." I thought to myself. I gingerly dipped my hands into the cold, murky water. "This isn't so bad," I told myself reassuringly as I propelled the craft toward land. The rain had intensified, and the freezing darts beat on my head like it was a drum. It was a shallow lake, and I felt my finger graze the bottoms a few times. By now, my clothes were soaked, and the rain was so hard, I could barely see the shore through it. Suddenly, I felt my numb fingers brush up against something. I froze, and whipped my hands out of the water. I put my face close to the water, and strained my eyes. There was something dark laying against the light yellow bedrock. It wasn't moving, so I tentatively reached down again. I grasped the thing, and pulled it out of the water. It was my lost oar. I stared at it with a bewildered expression. I had still had my oar farther into the lake, what was it doing here? I decided I would save my questions for later, because the boat was starting to fill with water. I rowed the rest of the way to the shore. My mother and sister rushed out of the house, with a coat sheltering their heads, as I pulled the boat to shore.
"Derik Lander Smith!" My mother said cried crossly when she reached me. "Don't you ever do that again mister, I-" She was cut off, as I wrapped my arms around her and January.
"Ewe!" January cried. "You're all wet!" She pulled away, and ran back to the house. My mother and I ran after her.

Cell phones

My mom just got a new iphone, and I really like it and stuff, but what I don't really get is why you would need all that stuff on a cell phone. It has internet, youtube, weather reports, online games, and some of the old cell phone stuff. And, it was like $500, yikes. Cell phones are kinda taking over. Some people have a phone plastered to their ears for atleast five hours a day! I rarely use my phone, but my friend has hers wherever she goes. She even brought it to the pool once! I just think people should get off the phone, and do something more worthwhile, like actually going over and paying the person a visit, maybe even going to lunch or something. That's much more than you can do on a cell phone.

Just a Little Thing

Everyone is writing little things on their blogs, and I think I'm gonna try it.

I agree with DancyPants, when they say that people don't need really expensive clothes to be fashionable, or popular, etc. I also like to wear flipflops, like larry. I don't think I'm gonna try it, but unicycling sounds fun, unikid. Well... I guess that's it, I don't really have anything else to talk about, and I think I'll just start a new post.

The Floushinder

There was something out there, I just knew it. I watched the lake for a few more minutes. I thought I saw a flicker, then realized it was a floating log. Sighing, I picked up a long stick, and started to draw in the moist dirt. A circle, wait, it was a heart, and now I was writing inside the heart, in big letters, MEADOW. I even loved the way her name was written, with long, graceful letters. I tried to write it in different fonts, Meadow, Meadow, Meadow. It was like some sort of trance; soon I was surrounded by her name.
“Derrick!” I looked back at the house; my mother was standing in the doorway with my baby sister Olivia in her arms. “Supper’s on the table.” She told me. When she noticed the old bent stick I had in my hands, she pointed to the ground. “Put it down,” She said with a slight smile. “And wash your hands at the spigot before you come in.”
I threw the stick into the deep woods surrounding the lake. I heard it hit something, probably a tree trunk, and make a hollow thud. The spigot was on a cleared dirt patch of land, placed in a deep wooden trough. The interior of the trough was coated with rubber glue, to keep the wood from rotting. I pulled the handle on top of the metal spigot, and cold, clear water gushed out. Grasping the rough homemade soap in my hands, I rubbed it between my hands, till they were covered in big white bubbles. When I had rinsed and repeated, I shook my hands out, and then wiped them on my brown trousers. When I slipped through the door and quietly closed it behind me, my family was already seated at the table. When I sat down, all the chatter abruptly stopped. At first I didn’t notice, then, when I noticed them all staring at me, I looked to my mother. “What?” I asked. I heard January, my older sister, breathing deeply next to me, and Olivia looked between her mother and me, clearly as confused as I was. “Why are you staring at me?” I said sharply. My mother dabbed at her lips with her napkin, though there was nothing there. Now I felt angry, why were they ignoring me? I stood up and roughly pushed my chair under the table.
“Where are you going?” My mother asked, in an anxious voice.
“Nowhere.” I said as I walked through the door, and let it slam behind me. Now I was running, running towards the lake. We had an old wooden craft, it was soggy and olive colored now, but it still floated. At least while I was out there my family couldn’t seize me, and haul me back to a soundless dinner. I had one row; the other one had disintegrated, and lay sprinkled along the bottom of the boat. I threw out an old birds nest, and the carcass of a mouse as I pushed it through the spongy mud. When I made it to the edge of the lake, I didn’t feel getting into the disgusting boat anymore, but I kept going and pushed it into the water. After I climbed in, I tried to row, but the boat was swamped in the squishy mud at the bank of the lank, so I got out again and pushed until I could feel the sand and rocks under my feet. I jumped into the boat and rowed until I was far enough into the water where I was sure my mother and January couldn’t creep up on me.

yay

YAY! I got my blog, and now im just checking if it works for me. Here are some random pictures that I thought were cool.