Random Short Stories (from middle school)

That Dreadful Howl

"Michael! Before you go to that party, could you maybe clean the living room? It's a mess and you know I can't," my mom said, leg up on the side of the couch and wrapped up in a new, white cast. She'd broken it last week on Saturday, and it being Tuesday she's far from recovery. She looks distressed and tired, but sitting on the pull-out couch all the time wouldn't do that to any normal person. Thing is, my mom's got OCD, and she needs the house to look nice all the time because she worries someone important might come over or something, and she checks the door hundreds of times before she goes to bed. She counts everything, I know because she moves her lips as she does, she just doesn't speak. She keeps her hair in a tight, brown bun that actually compliments her graying hair, even though it's pretty already.

"Okay, mom." I walk around the room, which isn't very big, and pick up a few newspapers and books that my mom flew through in the few days she's been restricted from leaving the couch. I set them all on the far end of the bedside table. "Do you want me to turn these in and check new ones out?"

"Sure, but tomorrow, I'm not done with this one and they're not open yet."

"Okay. Can I go now?

"Sure, but be home by tomorrow before noon."

"Okay, mom. Love you."

I walk over to the door, grab my bag with my Halloween costume in it, and put my shoes on, then stand back up and unlock and open the door, glancing at my mom one last time.

"You sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Okay, I'll catch you later." I step out of the house cautiously, and shut the door slowly and quietly, pulling my keys out of my pocket and locking it, because that's what my mom always tells me to do and she gets stressed about it when I don't.

I slide the large, fluffy hood of my black and green plaid hoodie up on top of my short black hair. It's kinda wet outside and sprinkling, and it feels like it might snow later, because it's really cold and the air has a wintery smell. Maybe going to that party tonight isn't the best idea, I think, besides, what if someone tries something? What if someone starts to tell me to drink alcohol? What if I get beaten up? I don't know who all will be there, so someone may have invited a big group of jocks, and they aren't exactly my type of people.

I quickly dismiss the thoughts, I was taught to ignore negativity, even if it's my own. I open the slippery car door and slide into the driver's seat. I'm still not the best at it, because I only got my license in July, but I'm good enough so that I can drive forty-five minutes on wet, crowded roads and make the way back with little to no complications. I get the car started and plug my phone into the port, so I can listen to my dubstep playlist while I drive. My friend Allynna told me to put her earbuds in on the bus during 6th grade to listen to the music she was playing, and I've been hooked ever since. I pull out of the bumpy dirt driveway and turn to the right.

"There is no barricade, that I can't tear away, shoot me down swear I'll fire away, away, away, 'cause I'm a Heavyweight, I'm a Heavyweight..." The radio chimes on, and I keep perfect pitch with the words. I wouldn't say I'm a good singer, but I wouldn't argue if somebody else said so.

The song is interrupted as my ringtone goes off, and I tap the screen of my phone to answer the call, and then press speaker.

"Hey Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"The party is postponed for an extra thirty minutes, because Lyra has to do her nails and stuff, okay?"

"Got it. I'm already halfway there, so that only means I have time to stop at Subway or something if I want," I state casually, but really I want to be at the party as soon as possible. My friend Ashton will be there, and we barely get to see each other anymore.