Hey guys. This is my first story I am posting. I no name for it yet. When I am done I will post the name. This is just the beginning, so don’t expect a full book right out of the blue. Here it is in it’s unnamed glory:
I walk through the door, only to find Naranja is already there… No need to find that fat orange cat to take him on a walk. He runs off through his cat door and out into the dog-filled arena. I rush to catch up with him and find myself standing outside in the middle of a warzone. Dogs and cats, ripping each other apart. It is a war between pets. I look over to the left and see pet snakes trying to swallow birds. Many other pets facing each other in ultimate combat. What is going on here? What has all of these pets out for blood? Or are they even pets? They could be just random animals fighting for survival…
Nope. They are pets. I see their collars on each and every animal. Even on the snakes and birds. What is happening? If I grab my cat, are they going to attack me? I start to pant. My breathing quickens. Wait. My cat isn’t getting beaten up or eaten. He is waltzing through the middle. WHAT IS GOING ON?!?! I am terrified! I start to pant. My breathing quickly becomes gasping. I am going to die. And my cat is going to be the one to kill me.
I jump from bed. Ahhh!! YEAH! I am still alive! And it was all a dream 😀 Yes! Arm pump! I love this realm. The real one. NOT the nightmare one. I guess the dream one is ok.. Nope! The dream one sucks because it isn’t real. Darn that dream realm! Or, world? Yeah world. Darn that dream word! I check my clock. It says it is 7:30. OH NO!! I am so busted! I am late for school! Darn you sleep! I grab my clothes and jump into the shower. Yikes! The water is freezing! I hate the shower! No I don’t, I just hate cold water. I wash up and put on my favorite outfit. It is mint-green striped shirt, nice jeggings, and my black heels. And no. I am not one of those stuck up “popular” kids, just so you know. I hurry downstairs to grab my breakfast. My mom is there, she looks like she was about to come up and get me. Oh no. That means I am in trouble!
“Holly! Why didn’t you get up until now? You are late for school! If you get a tardy you are grounded for a week!!” Yikes! My mom is mad! She puts a bowl of oatmeal on the table, “Eat it. You need to be ready for the school day. Your book report is due today. Is it done?” Darn. I forgot. Oh well. Just another reason to get grounded. I reply a little shakily, “No.. Sorry. I will get on that asap.”
“You’d better missy! Or you will be grounded longer. Your dad already left you are so late!!” Wait, WHAT?? Dad NEVER leaves without me. I jump up and race out the door. Not even caring that my oatmeal is sitting untouched on the table. I raced through the now snowing street and just barely make it to school and hear the bell ring. I gasp when I walk through the doors.It is so warm! I am sweating. I run to my locker, safely aware of the slick hallway. I put in my combo: 36, 12, 8. I grab it and pull. Oh no! It won’t budge. Darn you locker! I kick it and it opens revealing it is the wrong locker. What? How do I know the code to this random locker? I realize that the codes for every locker is similar to the last. I must have hit the wrong number.. The staff are very dumb! I find my correct locker and get it to open. Once I get my stuff I race to class.
I enter Language Arts and quietly sneak to my seat. Mrs. Bontrebergen (She lets us call her Mrs. Bonnie) catches me and says, “Ms. Waid, you did a marvelous job on your book report. Would you mind sharing it with the class?” Woah. What is going on here? Why does she think I wrote my Book Report? This is nuts. I am going to ask her what the heck she is talking about.
“Are you Ok Mrs.Bonnie? Um… I don’t remember giving it to you,” I say uncertainly. I hope that didn’t give away that I didn’t do it.. I really hope I didn’t.
“I am fine, dear. Your mother brought it in this morning, seconds before you walked in.. Didn’t you see her? Plus, I would think you asked her to, normally moms don’t just decide to bring it in themselves…” Oh. Of course she did. Wait, I didn’t write my book report. What did she bring? Mrs.Bonnie walks over to my desk, the other kids in the room staring at me with smiling mouths thinking I am in trouble. The teacher sets a piece of paper on my desk and smiles. Surprisingly not an evil grin. Huh. Could’ve sworn that she was getting me in trouble.
“Please come up and read this to the class. You did an excellent job,” She smiles again. I look at the paper and see that the whole thing is written in her handwriting. Normally she doesn’t do my homework but this is nice! I reply in a soft, sing-song voice, “Of course. I would never deny such a stunning chance like this!” Everyone laughs. I love doing making fun of her. I am not usually all that nice though.. Sorry for crushing your expectations! Not sorry! Lol. I walk to the front of the class, with deepest pride and greatest pleasure. I jump up onto the stool, not literally of course, and start to read my mom’s book report. Apparently, she figured out which book I was going to read. Smart women :D. I read it through and wait for the kids to start laughing. I mean, they think I wrote this. I just had an amazing realization, they think I wrote this!! They think I am amazing at writing.. I don’t know if that is a good thing or if it is a bad thing.
“Nice Ms. Waid! You did spectacular!” Mrs. Bonnie sounds like I just played like Bach or Beethoven. The other kids continually join in. This is amazing! I should have Mom write my papers more often. Maybe I can get her to–
“Ms. Waid, you really need to pay attention. It is your turn to share your book report. You should be getting up here! Plus, why were you sleeping?” And thoughts interrupted. Darn that sleep! I think I dreamt all of that. Sadly. Now I have to tell her that I didn’t do it.. Wow. Good job me.
“Um.. Mrs. Bonnie?” I ask uncertainly.
“I forgot to do it.. If I turn it in tomorrow would I still get full points?” Everyone laughs. And I mean EVERYONE laughs.
“Only if you don’t rush it dear,” She replies in a soft voice.
“Thanks a billion!”
“Your welcome dear. Now, onto Yvette.” Yvette, the “Popular Girl” of Stonecrest Middle, walked up to the front with a smirk. I hate that girl. That snotty, rude, pretty, jerk of a 13 year old.
If you want to read more, please tell me. I don’t think it is very good…