Transformers FanFiction

Chapter 1

I woke up to a normal day it the Witwicky house.  Sam was still in bed, my mom was making breakfast and my dad was outside working on the lawn that no one could walk on.  I got out of my bed and put on a white tee shirt and black jeans.  I threw on my black leather jacket and put my school books in my bag.  I swung my bag over my shoulder and opened my door.

I walked down to the end of the hallway and knocked on my older brother Sam's door.  "Are you up?"  I asked.

"Yes, Chick," he replied groggily.  That's always a no.

"Hurry up, mom is making bacon," I said.  And with that, I heard Sam scurrying in a hurry.

I turned around and walked past my room and down the hall to the stairs.  Sam's door opened.  He was wearing a black tee shirt over a grey long sleeve shirt and blue jeans.  He swung his back-pack over his shoulder and jogged down the hallway.

"Hi, sleepyhead," I greeted.  I walked down the stairs, trying not to trip.

"Don't...  Call me that," he said, annoyed.  He followed me down the stairs.  We were greeted by Sam's dog, Mojo.  The dog had a broken leg and had to be fed pills for the pain.  Poor Mojo.

Sam turned to the left to go into the living room where I turned to the right and went to the kitchen.  I sat down at the island where my food was laid down.  I smiled at my mom.  "Good morning."

"Hey, sweetie," she said.  She was wearing a light blue shirt with a beige knee-length skirt.  Man, do I wish I could give my mom a make-over.  "Are you ready for school?"

I nodded.  "Mom.  I'm seventeen.  I can get myself ready for anything."

"Just wait until a zombie apocalypse comes and you're not ready for that," my mom emphasized.

Sam walked in and gave our mother a hug.  "Hey, hi," he greeted.  He sat down beside me.  "You want me to drive you to school today?"

"You don't have a car," I said.  I ate a piece of bacon.  I turned to look at him.

"I meant in my imaginary car," he said, loud enough that my mom could hear him.

"Oh, your dad is picking you both up today from school," she said.  She went back to doing the dishes in the corner of the kitchen.

I looked over at Sam, then to mom.  "Why?"  I asked.

She shrugged.  "Sam needs to do something with him."

Sam looked awed.  "Like what?"

"Oh, nothing.  Now, do you have everything for your report in history today?"  She asked.  "The glasses?"

"Yes, mom," Sam said.  He finished eating his breakfast and looked at the time.  "Chick, we should get going.  We have a walk to the bus stop."

I nodded.  "I'm right behind you," I said.  I stood up, grabbed my bag and left the house.  Dad was working on the grass.  I walked on it and walked to the sidewalk.

"Really?  You HAD to walk on the grass?"  My dad asked.

"Dad.  It's grass.  It's meant to be walked on," I said.  I jogged up beside Sam.  "Has Dad always been this OCD about GRASS?"

I had spent the summer away in Canada, visiting my friend.  It was a four hour flight, but I enjoyed it.  I didn't know whether our dad always had OCD.

Sam shrugged.  "He grounded me because Mojo wizzed on the grass, so... Yes," he said.

I laughed.  "I can't wait to see your project you've been working on at the end of the day."  Sam and I were both in the same class.  Grade 11, though he was older than me.  He was born in March, 1992 and I was born December, 1992, a good nine months after.  So mom and dad enrolled us in the same grade since kindergarten.