Creative Writing
a short story that I don't want to forget
I have been waiting months for this day! Mom and Dad are raring to go on the Honolulu honeymoon they’d never had. Erik, my baby brother, left three days ago on a school trip to Mexico. I suspect his love of the language blossomed once it became clear that students would miss a week of school.
“Okay hon, we’re coming back Saturday night. You know both our cell numbers. Oh, and the hotel number.. What am I forgetting?” Because Erik is away, I’ll be alone overnight for the first time. Mom is a nervous mess. “Auntie Ela is only five minutes away. She’s more than happy to stop by if you need something.”
“Milo needs his medicine on the first, don’t forget! We don’t want him to get fleas… or whatever it is that the medicine prevents.” Dad isn’t keen on leaving me alone especially since it’s me. He informed half the officers in Skompton to use any spare minute to check up on me. With his connections, they’ll be lined up and down the street. “Please, please, don’t spend this money on anything you don’t need.”
Making sure I play it right, I roll my eyes and palm the cash. “Dad. Mom, I’ll be totally fine. I promise. I even memorized your list of rules: no one comes over except for family, feed the animals at five every day, check up on Erik and expect calls, be extra careful at night...” I recite, counting off a few of their many rules on my fingers. I don’t let it show but I’m thoroughly terrified of the house at night. Sunlight streaming through the windows does not reassure me; anxiety makes my spine contort, as impossible as that may sound. In other words, the only reason I’m not begging them to stay is because money was tight when they first got married.
“We’ll call you when we get to Hawaii.” Mom says, bending down to pat our sheltie, Mini Milo. Dad cradles our eternal kitten Jasmine in one hand while scratching her ‘sister,’ Kokomo, on the head. I stand there waiting for my goodbye. Two kisses, one group hug later and I hear the minivan revving.
“Well Mini, we’ve finally got the house to ourselves. I’m not sure how you feel about it but I’m pretty scared.” He stares at the closed door, completely ignoring me. I amble off to my room. Summer is the best time to be home alone and I’m going to get as much nerd time out of it as possible. Yep, this was going to be a good week.
Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday
Day before MY week Pokemon Pearl, DC vs. Mortal Kombat, Halo 3 [?], Knocked Up, N64 and Sonic ALL DAY 3rd LOTR, 3rd Star Wars, London, 1-4 Seasons of The Office, Step Brothers, Chobits, Death Note!!! Read as many Harry Potter books as possible while listening to shuffle setting of iPod ALL DAY PARTY!!
^^v
Welcome Home, Brother! End of MY week.
[Mom and Dad]
It took a couple minutes before I realized I was clenching $250, no strings attached. Food money but it felt good.
My three days of solitude were amazing. Everything I couldn’t do in a house full of people, I crammed into three days. Blasting every stereo we owned, making the house a literal beacon of light, running around like crazy and belting sad songs as loud as humanly possible; it was quite liberating. I left the sink full to bursting but ended up cleaning out of habit and guilt. The resistant blinds were yanked open to let the winter sun leave unsatisfying warmth and jaded light. Nights weren’t as bad as I thought they’d be. At 10:30 every night, the animals would crowd my room like clockwork.
I pull on a re-gifted red cotton robe from Mom and settle onto my cushion of bed. Every lock was triple checked, drawstring blinds in my room were tightly shut, and the yard lights were set to extra sensitivity. I was beginning to get used to living alone; those three days seemed like a month to me. The first night, I stole everyone’s pillows from their eerily undisturbed beds just to combat the lack of life. I put them all around me like sandbags, meager protection against shadow people. Tomorrow is my Party Day and I want to be a great host. I turn in early, 12 o clock sharp, and leave the TV on Sleep. Tugging back the heavy covers, I crawl into bed. When the cold sheet touches my legs, I sigh and curl into a ball. Yawning wide, Kokomo leaps lightly onto the bed, following suit. Jasmine stares for a second before deciding to sleep on my new white shirt. It’ll resemble a grey sweater by tomorrow. Milo trots into the room, another space heater. I watch him collapse in his bed, absently wondering what dog I’ll get in the future. Eyes laden with sleep, warmth circling my body, I let sleep come.
I am walking the state line, where Illinois becomes Wisconsin, my hand resting on the horse-sized dog to my right. What a gorgeous dog: dense undercoat, intelligent yellow eyes, slight form and dinner-plate paws. He looks a little like a wolf. As I finally lose my balance his big, angled head turns towards me. His eyes hold mine as they melt into yellow flames. He whispers, Wake up.
Jolting upright, my eyes fly open but I had to be dreaming. My room is at least 120 degrees. My bed is being devoured by flames. I rip the covers off as blackened pillows fall to the floor. Oh god, my space heater! I was so wrapped up in the party that I forgot to turn off the heater. The fire dances around the room. Arduous as I stare in horror, the fire inches towards my only escape, the bedroom door. My thoughts jump to the animals. Milo’s cowering in the corner and Jasmine’s hissing on the windowsill. Kokomo is nowhere near here. Scooping up the compact dog, I run to the kitchen and slip on his harness. He whines audibly as a race back into the fiery room. Luckily, the cats had to go to the vet on Sunday and I was too lazy to put the carriers downstairs. Thank God for procrastination. I push Jasmine rather roughly into the crate and put a thick blanket around it. Tying Milo to the handle, I run outside to leave them on the front lawn.
“Milo, I’ll be right back, okay? Watch Jasmine.” I stride quickly back inside amidst their cries of frantic fear. Punching in the number before anything can spread further, I’m surprised that the kitchen is free of fire.
“Hello? There’s a fire at 123 Lowell Avenue in Skompton. Please hurry!” I throw the phone at the wall, swearing loudly. Kokomo is the Houdini of cats, I might not be able find her.
Five minutes and a screaming cat later, I was bleeding profusely. Sprinting out the door, I put the cats side by side as Milo sidles up next to my rigid form. I spread the blankets out on the lawn and it’s like some kind of sad picnic. I look into the carriers of our cats and wonder what they saw when the bed caught on fire. They have a limited color span; it must’ve been beautiful. Probably the most vivid colors they have ever seen.
I have been waiting months for this day! Mom and Dad are raring to go on the Honolulu honeymoon they’d never had. Erik, my baby brother, left three days ago on a school trip to Mexico. I suspect his love of the language blossomed once it became clear that students would miss a week of school.
“Okay hon, we’re coming back Saturday night. You know both our cell numbers. Oh, and the hotel number.. What am I forgetting?” Because Erik is away, I’ll be alone overnight for the first time. Mom is a nervous mess. “Auntie Ela is only five minutes away. She’s more than happy to stop by if you need something.”
“Milo needs his medicine on the first, don’t forget! We don’t want him to get fleas… or whatever it is that the medicine prevents.” Dad isn’t keen on leaving me alone especially since it’s me. He informed half the officers in Skompton to use any spare minute to check up on me. With his connections, they’ll be lined up and down the street. “Please, please, don’t spend this money on anything you don’t need.”
Making sure I play it right, I roll my eyes and palm the cash. “Dad. Mom, I’ll be totally fine. I promise. I even memorized your list of rules: no one comes over except for family, feed the animals at five every day, check up on Erik and expect calls, be extra careful at night...” I recite, counting off a few of their many rules on my fingers. I don’t let it show but I’m thoroughly terrified of the house at night. Sunlight streaming through the windows does not reassure me; anxiety makes my spine contort, as impossible as that may sound. In other words, the only reason I’m not begging them to stay is because money was tight when they first got married.
“We’ll call you when we get to Hawaii.” Mom says, bending down to pat our sheltie, Mini Milo. Dad cradles our eternal kitten Jasmine in one hand while scratching her ‘sister,’ Kokomo, on the head. I stand there waiting for my goodbye. Two kisses, one group hug later and I hear the minivan revving.
“Well Mini, we’ve finally got the house to ourselves. I’m not sure how you feel about it but I’m pretty scared.” He stares at the closed door, completely ignoring me. I amble off to my room. Summer is the best time to be home alone and I’m going to get as much nerd time out of it as possible. Yep, this was going to be a good week.
Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday
Day before MY week Pokemon Pearl, DC vs. Mortal Kombat, Halo 3 [?], Knocked Up, N64 and Sonic ALL DAY 3rd LOTR, 3rd Star Wars, London, 1-4 Seasons of The Office, Step Brothers, Chobits, Death Note!!! Read as many Harry Potter books as possible while listening to shuffle setting of iPod ALL DAY PARTY!!
^^v
Welcome Home, Brother! End of MY week.
[Mom and Dad]
It took a couple minutes before I realized I was clenching $250, no strings attached. Food money but it felt good.
My three days of solitude were amazing. Everything I couldn’t do in a house full of people, I crammed into three days. Blasting every stereo we owned, making the house a literal beacon of light, running around like crazy and belting sad songs as loud as humanly possible; it was quite liberating. I left the sink full to bursting but ended up cleaning out of habit and guilt. The resistant blinds were yanked open to let the winter sun leave unsatisfying warmth and jaded light. Nights weren’t as bad as I thought they’d be. At 10:30 every night, the animals would crowd my room like clockwork.
I pull on a re-gifted red cotton robe from Mom and settle onto my cushion of bed. Every lock was triple checked, drawstring blinds in my room were tightly shut, and the yard lights were set to extra sensitivity. I was beginning to get used to living alone; those three days seemed like a month to me. The first night, I stole everyone’s pillows from their eerily undisturbed beds just to combat the lack of life. I put them all around me like sandbags, meager protection against shadow people. Tomorrow is my Party Day and I want to be a great host. I turn in early, 12 o clock sharp, and leave the TV on Sleep. Tugging back the heavy covers, I crawl into bed. When the cold sheet touches my legs, I sigh and curl into a ball. Yawning wide, Kokomo leaps lightly onto the bed, following suit. Jasmine stares for a second before deciding to sleep on my new white shirt. It’ll resemble a grey sweater by tomorrow. Milo trots into the room, another space heater. I watch him collapse in his bed, absently wondering what dog I’ll get in the future. Eyes laden with sleep, warmth circling my body, I let sleep come.
I am walking the state line, where Illinois becomes Wisconsin, my hand resting on the horse-sized dog to my right. What a gorgeous dog: dense undercoat, intelligent yellow eyes, slight form and dinner-plate paws. He looks a little like a wolf. As I finally lose my balance his big, angled head turns towards me. His eyes hold mine as they melt into yellow flames. He whispers, Wake up.
Jolting upright, my eyes fly open but I had to be dreaming. My room is at least 120 degrees. My bed is being devoured by flames. I rip the covers off as blackened pillows fall to the floor. Oh god, my space heater! I was so wrapped up in the party that I forgot to turn off the heater. The fire dances around the room. Arduous as I stare in horror, the fire inches towards my only escape, the bedroom door. My thoughts jump to the animals. Milo’s cowering in the corner and Jasmine’s hissing on the windowsill. Kokomo is nowhere near here. Scooping up the compact dog, I run to the kitchen and slip on his harness. He whines audibly as a race back into the fiery room. Luckily, the cats had to go to the vet on Sunday and I was too lazy to put the carriers downstairs. Thank God for procrastination. I push Jasmine rather roughly into the crate and put a thick blanket around it. Tying Milo to the handle, I run outside to leave them on the front lawn.
“Milo, I’ll be right back, okay? Watch Jasmine.” I stride quickly back inside amidst their cries of frantic fear. Punching in the number before anything can spread further, I’m surprised that the kitchen is free of fire.
“Hello? There’s a fire at 123 Lowell Avenue in Skompton. Please hurry!” I throw the phone at the wall, swearing loudly. Kokomo is the Houdini of cats, I might not be able find her.
Five minutes and a screaming cat later, I was bleeding profusely. Sprinting out the door, I put the cats side by side as Milo sidles up next to my rigid form. I spread the blankets out on the lawn and it’s like some kind of sad picnic. I look into the carriers of our cats and wonder what they saw when the bed caught on fire. They have a limited color span; it must’ve been beautiful. Probably the most vivid colors they have ever seen.