Her Dog Days

✲ chapter one ✲

I tried my best, I really did.

"Captain Charlie, we're not gonna make it!" yelled my little assistant in the Captain's headquarters.

"Shut up you stupid piece of spinach, we'll make it!" I tighten the grip on the big steering wheel of the boat and stare into the deep dark ocean.

There was one huge obstacle in my way, an iceberg.

"You need to turn this boat around!" exclaimed my ginger, scrawny assistant.

"I swear to god you say something one more time, I'm shoving you in a pickle jar and throwing you overboard!"

That immediately shut him up.

By the millisecond, the iceberg grew huge, really huge.

"Brace for impact!" I shout over to the rest of my crew as we reached face to face with the monstrous iceberg.

But there was no impact.

I look up from where I was hovering and the boat had stopped completely.

The iceberg was softly swaying from side to side but not moving any closer to the boat.

I stare at the iceberg in confusion but it now started to grow a mouth.

The mouth looked like a large crack on the iceberg horizontally and opened its mouth to say one thing:

BEEP.

What?

BEEP. BEEP.

What's going on?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I wake up with a fright and shot myself up from the bed. I stare at the source of the inconvenient noise and realized who I am and where I am.

Oh, it's time to go to school.

I smack the alarm clock and possibly threw it off the bedside table. Oh well, I needed a new one anyways.

I stretch my sweaty limbs and threw the covers off of me. Summer starts in a few days, but you can already feel the gruesome heat in the mornings. I take a relieving cold shower and changed into a black shirt that I got from volunteering about two years ago at an animal shelter and navy blue jeans. I know that black or any dark color absorbs a lot of heat, but I could never wear any pastel colored clothing, it's too girly for my taste.

Giving my hair a quick brush, I head downstairs to greet my parents, but mostly to eat breakfast. "Morning familia," I say as I take a seat on the island in the kitchen.

My mom works as a financial manager at some random indie restaurant and my dad is a pharmacist at a local drug store, they're just normal people with a weird taste in music. Ever heard of someone called Elton John or Juan Luis Guerra?

Exactly.

Both my parents are from Barranquilla, Colombia; they both came here for a better life for their child -- spoiler alert, I'm the child.

Needless to say, I'm thankful for their sacrifice and giving me such an amazing life.

"Good morning mija and get off the counter." My mom said, with a sweet tone at first, then with a demanding tone.

"Well, you just had a bi-polar moment there," I say getting off and sitting next to my dad on the stool.

He had his iPad literally plastered onto his face reading the news, completely oblivious to his surroundings, classic dads.