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My Life

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There was once a boy who, unlike most others of his age, woke up at 5:33 a.m. He had an average family: one brother and a dad and a mom. His brother’s name was Jordan. So as he heard the familiar “Beep! Beep! Beep!” of his alarm, he slowly rolled out of bed with a dramatic groan and grabbed on one of the many pairs of pants that littered the white-tan carpeting. With an even more dramatic groan, he opened the door that would, in theory, start his day. He cautiously walked through the pitch-black basement on his way to the bathroom. As you know it is very difficult to see where you are going in the dark, even in your own house. And this was no different for him, not knowing exactly where he was going, he felt his out-stretched hand hit the wall, followed by his forehead, and he felt his right foot hit the wall, too. Moving on from the wall, he finally felt his hand hit the bathroom door. Slowly reaching down, he felt the metallic cold of the brass knob. He opened the door, and then again he began feeling in the endless darkness for the light switch that would make everything easier. After flicking on the lights, he turned and saw the average-sized bathroom with its bone-chilling tan tiled flooring, and ironically, the world seemed cold.

Upon leaving the bathroom, he takes his first step to start his day, and that first step is off the cold tile onto the warm carpeting, and very suddenly he is awake. He remembers in a matter of a minute; he knows how his day is going to go. He remembers all the homework that is due, that he has baseball practice later, and what he will eat for breakfast and lunch. By the time all that has gone through his head, he is halfway up the stairs and notices that no one else is awake yet. He only notices this because there are no lights on, and he doesn’t hear the sound of Sports Center. While climbing the stairs he feels the aftermath of the previous night’s baseball practice, and he says to himself “Why didn’t I stay in bed longer?” He slowly walks to the tiled island in the middle of the kitchen/dinning room/entry.

Upon arriving at the island he reaches down into one of the cupboards and pulls out the half empty bag of Cheerios and gives another overly dramatic sigh. Grabbing a bowl and the almost empty gallon of milk he slowly pours the average amount of Cheerios into the average size bowl but in retaliation for having to eat Cheerios, he pours an unnecessarily large amount of milk. Grabbing the bowl of Cheerios he walked over to the nearby family table and again out of retaliation (for the Cheerios) sat at the head of the family table so everybody in the family would have to sit around him. Just as he begins to eat his cereal, his dad walks out of the master bedroom to the left. And says “Is Jordan up yet?” and gets the answer “No”
“Ok” his dad answers.
“JORDAN!” and “COMING!” was heard faintly from the bedroom to the right.
“Just about to take out the dogs.” as two English Bulldogs run around the table.

All the time, the teenager at the table was finishing up his Cheerios in silence. After eating the last soggy cheerio, and chugging the cold refreshing milk, he stood up from the table, put his dirty bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, and slowly walked back down the stairs.

Upon entering the bathroom this time to brush his teeth, he grabbed his toothpaste and toothbrush off the sink and adding one to the other began brushing his teeth. This seemed to take about five minutes longer than usually. After brushing his teeth the way that the dentists told him not to, he began to walk back through the vast empty space that is his basement. Grabbing the cologne off the dresser in his room he sprayed some of the good stuff on the general area of his upper chest and neck.

Heading back upstairs he grabbed his backpack off the floor and walked towards the door that led to the garage. Picking up his pair of old black Nike Shox, he threw them on and shouted goodbye to the rest of his family still scrambling to get everything that they needed for their day. Walking out to his old and trusty steed that is his black ’97 Dodge Stratus, and feeling the cold of the morning air on his young face, soon finds himself sitting in a nice gray cloth seat. When I put my hand on that steering wheel I said to myself Lets Rock. And for some odd reason I find security and belonging in knowing that tomorrow and the next day, and the next two years of my life will be almost exactly the same as today.





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