As the story always begins...

In the alluring first light of the world, lived a young teen by the name of Cathy Robins. She was snugged in her ransacked bed, arms crossed behind her head, while gazing into the peak of the warm Texas daylight appearing from her window as she always did. Sighing, she'd lazily arose and stretched for a long period of time, scratched her head and started waddling off to her closet. As always, She had to tussle the jammed closet door in order to open it, but eventually, it decides to budge. She clutches her clothing on the gruesome emulsion shelf she had planned out the next morning, then stomps to her door locking it, she wiggles the knob to check if it was scoured just in case, finally changes into her day time clothing.

After words, she does her usual hygiene procedures. then starts walking down the hallway spotting her siblings as well as her parents. She stops on her tracks and starts examining the room to see if anyone would notice her arrival, but, as expected, she wasn't. Carrying on with her day, she quickly grabs a banana and some peanut butter, her favorite snack, then rushes up stairs.

She quickly rushes to her room slams the door, locks it, then finally throws herself onto her bed. She grins while un pealing her banana, she slobbers in awe when she dips the precious banana into the peanut butter. She takes a bite, then shivers. See, as a young child, Cathy and her grandmother always ate this dish together. She had loads of fond memories of her, more memories of her grandmother  then her own siblings or parents because her grandma was the only person who spoke to her, paid attention to her, instead of the others that completely ignored her. But, sadly, the end came for the unfortunate grandmother, but honestly, expected. She was 109 years old, and she had spinel problems wich enabled her to walk or keep her head up, as well as cancer she had in her lungs for over 30 years. Eventually, she died in her slumber. It was the most peaceful way to die, or so thought Cathy. Exsept the mournful passing of her grandmother, she always kept her in her heart, which warmed it every time she thought of her.

After finishing the snack, she decided to take a bike ride down to the modest lake close to her house. She runs back downstairs dumping the plate in the trashcan, then she grabs a fresh new water bottle from the fridge. She arrives outside squinting her eyes to block the blistering Texas sun. In the shed located at the end of her driveway was her bike hidden on the bottom of the bike pile, as expected. she grabs the handles of her bike then starts wiggling the bike left to right rapidly until it eventually slides out. Afterwords, she whipped off her hands and cracks her fingers, she picks up her bike, dusts off the seat, places her water into the bottle cage, then hops on the bike zooming off into old, rough, dirt road.

Her routine bike ride was for about 4 hours. She'd always feed the ducks, even though they as well don't pay attention to her, but it still seemed nice. she'd lay on the dirt gazing into the hot summer sky while searching for clouds that appears to look like something. Sometimes she would go on the playground equipment if there wasn't much pedestrians, then eat on a picnic table by herself. On her last hour, she would ride around the lake till time ended. she would return home at around 6 o'clock which was when her mother prepared supper for the family, Of course she had the left overs, but she always thought it was better then nothing, of course.

After eating supper in her bedroom, she would draw what she saw at the park, as in a dog she saw, or a cloud she thought seemed interesting. She had a talent were she had photographic memories of what happened that day, as well as being a artist she is. Finally, at 8, she would get ready for bed. First, her hygiene, her clothing that she puts out for the next morning, change of clothing, then, off to bed. When she was snugged into bed, She'd yell out "Goodnight" and of course no one answered, but she'd just imagine it.