Live and let die

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Rail road crossing? Is it really necessary for school busses to stop for them even if there is no train coming? There aren’t even seatbelts and they are going out of there way to protect us from rogue trains. Whoever made that rule must have been seriously misinformed about the length of a schoolbus. Its as if they thought that if there weren’t any trains coming when the driver passed over the tracks, then by the time the back of the bus made the crossover it would already be too late. As if the yellow x started flashing only seconds before the training came speeding through. Idiots. Sorry for acting like a total b****, yesterday was my 7th birthday and I got a turtle, don’t get me wrong it was a great present, but I have no idea what to name the damn thing. Also, sorry for the language, my mom has no filter. I gave him the temporary name of Owen, but I knew right away that wasn’t the right name for him on account of hes not a small blonde boy with a speech impediment wearing heelies. That’s not a real person, but that’s just what I picture when I hear that name. I was considering the name fang, but its to cliché for a snapping turtle, and if its not a snapping turtle, then its to ironic for a newly 7 year old girl to think of, so really I shouldn’t even be thinking this. I was also considering Sam due to the ring pattern on its shell, but then I remembered Sam doesn’t ever actually touch the ring, and I didn’t want to be one of those tools who reference movies incorrectly. Some random names that people would think were cute even made my list like mister, or cranberry, but neither of those make any sense. The stress of chosing what to call this thing is causing a zit to form right on the inside of my left ear. I’m no dermatologist but I’m sure 7 year olds shouldn’t be getting zits under any circumstances.

Almost my bus stop and I couldn’t be more ready to get away from these cretins. Should I know that word? As we draw closer to the big orange mailbox I get more and more excited. I plan on spending most the day playing my present, trying to see if it has any character traits that set it aside from other turtles that could help me thing of a fitting name. For example if it is brave I could name it Gibby (I pretended to be asleep last Friday night while my mom was watching Braveheart). Front door, finally home.

I walk into my room and look over at my terrarium to find an empty terrarium. “Dad! Where is Owen!?” Instead of answering I heard footsteps. Uh oh. He walked in Owenless wearing a frown almost as sad as when the Mets were mathematically eliminated from the playoffs last week. He explained how when he got home from lunch it was already dead so he threw it off the back deck into the bushes. I was shocked. I had a pet for less then one day before my dad shot-putted into our garden. I cant help to question whether or not it was actually dead for I am fairly certain my dad isn’t has never received any extensive training in checking to pulse of 3 week old adopted turtles. Oh well, I guess Owen was an ok name.





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