I Am Writing This Story Because

Finally, The Rising Action

i REALLY HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS. IF YOU DON'T, PLEASE COMMENT ON HOW I CAN MAKE THIS BETTER. BYE!!!!!!!

I wake up and the sun is up and shining. I really wonder if I could walk on the sun. I know I would burn to death in a mere second. Mere, thats a funny word. Anyway, but I still would like to give it a try. Maybe in the far future I could try and see what happens. Moving forward, I am seeing memories left and right but I have no idea when they happened. I still love how there is a zombie apocalypse in my head. The zombies just better not attack and eat the Voices. I have grown to like them but they say things I probobly shouldn't write.

I still want my IV purple. If that nurse doesn't get me the stuff required to turn it purple, I will get up and get it. I don't know if I am even allowed to leave this prison but I will rebel and break out. Haha. Metaphor. I am not a criminal. I have been in a jail cell with my friend when my dad put us in there for rebelling against his orders but I have never done anything to get me in prison. I have said rebel or rebelling a lot in this paragraph. Have you noticed that, Mr. Dude in the pink shirt and ugly Justin Beiber hair cut. You should know nobody likes that type of hair cut. It looks really stupid. And I do mean to affend any of you Belibers but I hate Justin Beiber. Anyhoo, I am waiting for the nurse and I will ask for blue and red food coloring so I can color my "food." She couldn't say no to that, could she.

Wait a minute or second or hour or day or month or year or decade or century or millenia or eon or even longer than that. I lost my pencil. I swear to the chair infront of me that I had it in my hand. Wait. Wait! I said wait! How am I even writing this? I am writing this with my pencil. How did I forget that? Why am I forgetting so many things right now? And my head hurts. I am too lazy to look back to see if the answer is somewhere in there, so I will just go on with the idea I have been hit in the head with a tissue box and have lost my memory.

It is really funny how even though tissues are really soft, tissue boxes can hurt.I tried to hit a fly with one but hit my friend and she got a bruise on her head, but you could not see it because of her hair even though it was on her part. It funny how you call it your part but it doesn't have a part in a play. It just is where your hair goes different ways because your hair can't agree with other hairs on the other side of your head and has to be on that one side of your hair or it just feels wierd. I wonder if every hair on that liittle head of every one has a different personality. Sorry dude in the yellow shirt, I didn't mean to affend your baldness.

But that would mean every hair would choose whether to go in a pony tail or to fly strait in the air. If so, stupid hairs that cannot agree with all the others. Now I want pie. A cherry pie with vanilla ice cream and, and whip cream and a cherry on top. With the glazed crust and flakyness. With the warm cherries inside, oozing in red goo and juice. Crap! Now I want to have pie. My mouth is watering. Its not watering plants but I can tell I really want pie now. Give me pie!.

I just noticed this but watering looks a lot like watermelon. Doesn't it? Now I really want pie. Like, I want, I need pie now! Well, I am going to wait. I better write a note to myself because I seem to have memory problems right now. Hey, I remembered that! Dear future self: Ask nurse for cherry pie and red and blue food coloring but DO NOT tell her why or make up some lie to make her give it to you or she will get mad at you again. And we really want that pie. The Voices need the pie. Get the pie. And the food coloring. Adios! Note is finished. That was a long note.

A zombie is coming. Two zombies, racing eachother. I see images but they are blurry again. Move one zombie! Okay, now one has left but I need to see this memory. Ready in three........two........one.....

Ms. Shooe writes on the chalkboard on the wall in the front of the room. Something about the history of England. I copy down the dates and stuff under but don't pay attention to it. People surround me, also writing. A blonde girl sits across from me, twirling her highlighted wig of fakeness in colour.

"Can anybody tell me who the first tudor king was?" Ms. Shooe asks the class. Nobody raises their hand. I try and stay hidden from her view behind the wrestler dude that sits in front of me. But just my luck, she calls on me.

"Scotti, please tell us the first tudor king of England was." 

"And if I don't?" I ask. The same question every time. She must get tired of it.

"You will get lunch detention." The same answer every time.

"Fine. King Henry. Then, King Henry. Then, guess what, King Edward, Bloody Mary, and Queen Bess. Happy?"

"Good. And here is the slip for lunch detention." Same thing happens after I answer every question. Oh well, I will get to see Mr. Stern face, the person who runs lunch detention, or at least, that is what I call him.

Wow. School. Can I have a fun memory one of these days, brain. I am getting bored of school. But another thing I remember in that memory is how annoyed I got that my dad was a Brit and everyone thought that I knew everything about England. I haven't even been there before. My dad doesn't want to go. Ugh!

The nurse came in. I asked her for pie and food colouring. She brought them both. Fool! She left right after so I couldn't bother her anymore. I put the piece of pie on the swingy table then grabbed the food colouring. The IV bag was openable so I opened it. Three drops of blue, three drops of blue. I watched the colours take over the clearness of the liquid. I recealed the bag then got back in my bed.Then I ate.

The pie was delicious. I love pie. But now I want peanut butter. Do you have peanut butter, dude with the Skillet shirt on? (Good choice in the band anyway.) I will have to wait for the nurse to come back. Its funny, everytime the nurse enters my room, she takes off the mask of happiness and smiles into a 'what do you want?' attitude. Its quite funny.

Like mere, quite is quite a funny word. I am tired. I want to sleep. I will sleep. Right..............................................................................................Now! Bye!

Thanks for reading!