hey there! im very lazy with caps and punctuation, my spell check forces me to do that on wordperfect, gosh i hate those squiggly red lines!
well, this is my fourth story ive wrote, not really a story. oh who cares.well just to let you know, i suck with names, and titles too. i dont really know anything about copyright, im kinda stunned lol, but please do not steal my work :) or ill get you, yes, you better watch out. i wish i could rant about how awesome this chapter would be if it were a part of a story but alas, it is not yet :( anyways, enough with this, comment, vote, and fan!!!!!!! please?? :)
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I sat in my kitchen, listening to the steady drip of water against wood. I welcomed the rain, it had been too long. It was the only noise to my ears, save for the distant murmur the ever on t.v downstairs. Chocolate ice-cream in front of me, it was the perfect scenario to ponder my thoughts. The occasional lick of my lips as I frequently ridded the chocolate buildup in the far corners of my mouth accompanied the sounds of the rain and t.v. It was a relatively quiet evening.
Just as I became used to the feeling of being alone, but knowing others are nowhere near far away from you, my silence was interrupted my the moist crunch of my brother biting into a peach.
Ugh, did he ever annoy me sometimes. Much as I loved him, there were still those times when I wanted to punch him in the face. I mean, you can only expect so much when there is five year age difference between the two of you, him being the younger.
An 11 year old brother and his 16 year old sister just aren't meant to get along.
"Caleb..." I trailed off sighing.
"What?" He tried to sound innocent, but failed with half the peach in his mouth.
The hint of a smile tugged at my lips, but I wouldn't soften on him. I quickly ate the rest of my ice-cream, though drank would be more appropriate; it had melted I had been sitting down so long. My back turned to him I sighed once more as he sat down to the table with his Archie Comic, I then stood up from the table and stalked off.
My golden silence was gone, and no silver duct tape could fix that.
My mom had picked up the phone and was gabbing away. My dad had come in from the shed and unmuted the t.v. My brother putters around the house, finished his peach. The rain had also stopped. I was sad in a way. Though I hate it when it rains, it was something familiar to me. Then again, so was my mother ranting on about how she gets frustrated here.
But in Newfoundland, the rain and fog were something you get used to. We had two seasons; summer, and fog season. During the summer, there was the occasional week of rain, a thunderstorm or two if your lucky. At least in the summer the rain is warm, refreshing. Not cold enough to jolt you out of the dreamlike state of summer, but enough so that you did not choke on the humidity. Summer, if I do say so myself, is pretty darn good.
During the fall, it rains and cools off. For the beginning of winter, we get slush, a mix of ice, rain, and snow. Then we get snow, and its nice, soft snow. It's beautiful actually, the way the streetlights catch the magic of the slow midnight snowfalls. Then guess what happens. Yup, more slush. And then, it rains. And it rains some more. The snow is washed away, the earth is still frozen through, the rains not yet warm enough for a total defrost. This happens slowly, and gradually we return to a perfect (in my view)summer atmosphere.
I have moved to the dining room, seeking stillness. However, I could not find it there either. My bored brother had returned to the kitchen, this time scrounging out a banana and turning on another of the six t.vs we own.
Annoyed, I shut everyone out, barely making conversation with them.. I muttered quiet but heartfelt goodnights to each of my family and locked myself in my room. Though it was only 20 after nine, I was tired. I knew that by going to bed now would leave me feeling fresh and awake, looking perhaps even radiant with the energy that sleep could bring. Also I could wake up and have the satisfaction of knowing I had not wasted away the beauty of the morning by sleeping half the day. I truly hated that, I liked to hear the singsong of the birds.
It was the middle of the summer, and the morning walks I spent on my paper route were peaceful and held at a temperature that merged with that of your body's, leaving you feeling numb, and never too hot or cold. I achieved that same feeling as I slipped into bed. I wore my long fleecy pyjamas, and I still had two quilts on my bed. Crazy for summer nights, but not when you sleep in the cold basement of a house. Filled with various items, cluttered with junk, the air was kept cool in this room by the touch of concrete walls against cold rock. I was living with earth surrounding me, the sunlight barely touching inside my freezer box, as I liked to call it. I woke up to cool dark mornings, nice when you wanted to go back to sleep.
My friends told me I was brave sleeping down here all by myself, what with the window being at ground level. They're all so paranoid, always thinking someone is going to break into my room, though my window faces the front of the house.
I, on the other hand, feel perfectly safe and serene. I don't have to listen to anyone else's snoring, the temperature and silence constant. With that thought I pulled the blankets a little bit tighter and slipped off into sleep.
A perfectly, dreamless sleep.
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Opinions please :) Look, I'm Actually using punctuation and correct capitalization hehe. Now vote, comment, and fan. Oh and don't be too harsh please, like i said, I'm new to writing,I don't think I'm all that good lol :)
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Short Entries
Teen FictionI like writing descriptive paragraphs, what can I say? They aren't poetry, nor stries, and I can just write 'em, capture moods, and forget about them!
