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Why Not Have Some Fun

“A Day In The Life…” No no that wont cut it. I sharply tapped the delete key frustrated. “Come on brain I need options!” I internally shouted to the pile of mush in my skull. “How ‘bout ‘This isn’t any normal’… NO NOT THAT EITHER!!!” I slammed the keyboard of my silver MacBook Air laptop. I gasped as the screen shivered with the impact. My hand flashed forward to hold it still. As the screen stilled I again began to continually inhale and exhale in a process necessary to life. I had gone through too many options and my enthusiasm to write was lost.

“I have just encountered a furious laptop eating Carter Evans monster in her quest to win some mullah.” I jumped as I heard my twin brother’s voice. He had his slim green camcorder in his hands.

“Dude Dylan is that on?” I jumped up out of my orange fuzzy beanbag to snatch the camcorder from him. My brother was dangerous with any type of footage and a computer. I didn’t want me in my colorful striped pants and old ratty extra curricular t-shirt all over the Internet.

“Carter look someone wrote gullible on the ceiling.”

“Ha, ha, very funny!” I said as I took the dormant piece of technology from his hands.

“What were you writing anyways?”

“Nothing of consequence.” Dylan stuck his tongue out at me in a brotherly kind of way. I replied with my own pink tongue.

“Immature!” I accused

“Besides to pester me what do you need?”

“Well, I still want to know what you were writing. Excuse me trying to write?”

“If you’ll leave me alone, I might tell you.” He held up his right hand and then promised

“Yea, course, whatever it takes to unlock your mysteries.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Fine, I was trying to write something for that realistic fiction contest online.”

“Oh yea, that one. Wait, I thought you didn’t like to write?”

“Well Dylan when you’re my age you’ll understand that when there is money involved people will do things they don’t like.”

“I am your age.”

“Well thank you, Captain Obvious. Also when you’re my age you will understand a little thing called sarcasm.”

“You’ll understand sarcasm.” He said mockingly

“Now that we have that resolved what did you need originally?” He stood there looking dumb for a second. Which isn’t really that hard for him to do.

“Oh yea! Now I remember. Mom wanted you to eat breakfast before the morning turns to afternoon. I don’t think she really cared about you staying in your pajamas since she still had hers on.” I smiled as he left the room not waiting for my dismissal.

My mom was, in my opinion, the best. On Saturday’s like this our whole family usually stayed casual unless we had plans. I went over to the floor length mirror on one of my white walls. I looked at myself and almost screamed. My hair was in a big lump on the back of my head. “I can’t believe Dylan didn’t use this as something to nag me about” I thought. I grabbed a brush off of my white night stand and started pulling at my shoulder, length, black hair. Eventually by some miracle it lay straight against my back. I grabbed an elastic hair band and put my hair up in a high ponytail. My bangs fell in my face so I put in a headband to restrain them.

I turned to face my room. It was great, all me. Starting with four walls of white blank canvas for me to be inspired by. When you have white walls you have to have brightly colored accessories. I had my floor length mirror on one wall with posters of movie stars surrounding it. Across from my “poster wall” was my queen sized bed it had a metal frame which helped give my room a modern look. Also on top of my bed were bright orange covers to represent my favorite color. They kept me warm in the coldest months here in Michigan. I liked the modern feel that translated into my silver ceiling fan. Behind my bed were two big windows that looked into our grassy backyard. I also had my desk in one cover strewn with schoolwork and random scrips and scraps of paper. Of course lastly I had my orange fuzzy beanbag that was permanently dented with how many times I had sat in it. I sighed thinking of how many great ideas had sprung out of my noggin from this room.

I wandered without a plan through my open door. Dylan’s room was right across from mine with a shared bathroom in between. The rooms created a circle, so from the outside of our house it looked like we lived in a miniature castle. I let my hand trail down the banister of our spiral staircase (probably my favorite feature of our house).

I could hear my family’s chatter as I entered the first floor of my beautiful home. My mom and dad were sitting at the kitchen table eating scrambled eggs that were probably made by my dad who is a chef. My moms short brown bob cut swayed as she turned to great me

“Good morning sleepy head.”

“Hi mom. I haven’t been sleeping this whole time.” I looked at the green numbers on the microwave that showed it was 11:00. “Wow I didn’t realize I had been working on that stupid story for so long.”

“How long exactly?” questioned my dad. I turned to look at him with his light brown short hair.

“I think that I woke up around 8 o’clock. Ha! I didn’t even get anything done.”

“Well I think it is very unfortunate and not humoring in anyway.” I smiled at my mom’s words. The conversation seemed to have ended so I walked to the medium brown wood cabinets to grab my favorite cereal, MultiGrain Cheerio’s! I began a mechanical routine, Cheerio’s on counter, grab favorite bowl, walk to fridge, open fridge. As the routine was wearing down and the cold milk jug was in my hand. I closed the fridge and Dylan was leaning against the wall. He surprisingly had already combed his blond hair and gotten dressed.

“So… you come here often?” he tried to use his not so great poker face

“Why yes, yes I do.” I turned away to mix together my milk and cereal. “How come you’re already dressed?”

“I’m going over to Nick’s house.”

“Mm orkay.” I mumbled through a mouth of cereal. I took my cereal into the living room and plopped my self on our white leather couch (of course it was very modern looking because I helped pick it out). I fished the remote out of a pile of magazines on the coffee table and I hit the red power button. The button had always made me think of it as a warning with a little tiny microscopic engraving that said, WARNING: Children are prone to stupidity if they are in contact with to much mindless television for extended periods of time. So I flipped the channel to some good old reality TV reruns. I munched on my cereal as people were voted out of some hair cutting show. “Why can’t they bleep out swear words better. I can so tell that she just said ***** and whoa did he just say *****!”

Eventually I grew tired of reality just as I had gotten bored of writing. By now a few stray Cheerio’s had become multi-gain mush in the bottom of my orange bowl. I went to the sink and sent them down the drain to be eaten by the garbage disposal. I flipped the switch. Almost instantaneously the loud monster like noise engulfed the kitchen. I waited a few seconds and turned the monster back off.



“What to do, what to do?” The microwave now read 12:30. “I could always watch more TV. LAME!” I walked back through my living room to look out the front window. It was a sunny day and I felt compelled to go outside pajamas or not.


I flung the big French doors open with gusto. The great almost summer break air hit me in the face. I was instantly warm and filled with happiness. Before I took another step outside I grabbed my orange craft bag hanging from a hook in the hallway. I sprawled myself out on the warm grass in my front yard. I reached into my bag and brought out from the depths of its cavernous hole my clipboard. Restrained by the silver latch was my most recent bracelet. It was constructed of a rainbow of embroidery floss. The colors crisscrossed in a plaid pattern about two inch’s wide.

As I started my hands worked in sync with my creativity. Pulling one string here, letting one string fall there. After a while it was to quiet so I grabbed my orange iPod, which was so conveniently also in my bag. I stuck the small white headphones into my ears. I clicked play and Muse instantly blared in my ears. I tried to sing along with the song “Supermassive Black Hole“, but the words were impossible to distinguish in their electronic warped state. I always thought that the song sounded kind of clumsy. I saw a light bulb flick on the house across from mine at the same time that I had a brilliant idea.

I dropped my clipboard and yanked the headphones out of my ear. I sprinted through the house and up the stairs. I grabbed my laptop off the floor were I had left it that morning. I glanced at the microwave as I ran back outside, 1:30. I plopped back down and flipped my laptop open. After a few excited clicks I was typing.

“I hated this bubble I was in. My parents had insisted it considering the fact that I couldn’t walk down the street without stumbling, literally. The hospital had called Child Protective Services on my parents after my fifth visit in 4 months…” I smiled to myself proudly with my great start.

I finished writing my story around 4:26 and 13 seconds. Pride flooded through me as I reread my masterpiece. Dylan wasn’t going to be home till 5 o’clock. “How can I kill 34 minutes and 47 seconds?” I tried to be patient so I picked up my clipboard and put my headphones back in.

Shortly after I had forgotten about my story my dad started backing out of the driveway in his green Volkswagen Beetle.

“WAIT DAD! Are you going to pick up Dylan?”

“Yes, but why do you suddenly care so much about your brother?” questioned my dad through the partially rolled down window

“I just need him to proof read paper. So please, please hurry up!”

“I will hurry up if you get out of the way, don’t want to hit you.”

“Oh right of course.” I backed away and waved my dad goodbye. His brown hair rustled in the wind his car made. “Alright it wont be long now.” I put my things back in my craft bag and placed it back on the hook in the hallway. I heard a car drive in and my German Pinscher named Scooby started to bark. I ran to the garage and as my brother got out of the car I slammed my laptop into his face.

“Read it, read it, read it!” I shouted

“Dude chill I just got home.” He grabbed my laptop and walked inside to sit on the couch. I watched as his eyes scanned the screen. I could see the amazement and scrutiny in his eyes. He started to laugh and it made me wonder, “Does he like it or is it so terrible its funny.”

“Oh my gosh! That was hilarious Carter. One question though, would you really want to live in a bubble?”

“I guess that I would like the option to do it occasionally. Wait, so you like it?”

“Yea, I think we already have a winner!”

“Thanks!” I grabbed my laptop and ran up to my room. Laying face down on my bed I went through the process of submitting my story. When I was done I felt accomplished. Then suddenly I realized I had just wasted a whole Saturday on a paper I didn’t even want to write. “I better win.” I gave a huge yawn and realized how tired and hungry I was. My exhaustions overpowered me and I dosed off.

The next morning my stomach awakened me so I trudged groggily downstairs. I smelled my dad’s infamous waffles and perked up a bit.

“Mornin’!” he said

“Hey Dad.” My dad placed some waffles doused in syrup in front of me and my stomach took over for a moment. I found my manners and managed to say “Franks dad. Trheir grawte.” He chuckled at me. I probably would too, I could imagine that I looked like an idiot.

“No problem you looked hungry.” I suddenly began to remember yesterday’s events. I gulped down a mouthful of my waffles as Dylan came down stairs sleepily running into the wall on his way. He took the seat next to me on the island. My dad handed him an equally sized plate of waffles.

“Did you get your story submitted last night?” Dylan asked in between a mouthful.

“Yea, I really hope I win though ‘cause I spent almost all afternoon on it. I didn’t even want to write it in the first place!”

“Fate will find a way.” He said in a mysterious tone.

“Where’d you get that, a fortune cookie?!?”

“And your lucky numbers are 42, 33, 15, 44, 21, and 51.”




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