Public, foos! :O
Here's a little bit of my original story for you all to read because I'm cool like that. =P
5:00 AM. Such a bleak, dreary time in the morning. Any sensible person would still be snuggled up under their comforter if at all possible. Unfortunately, this demographic did not include certain students of East Knoll High School. One student in particular, though, stood out among the other members of his group as the only one who actually enjoyed rising early.
The boy lay on a green futon, still asleep as the alarm continued to sound loudly. He lay on his stomach, sprawled out under the covers. His short red hair was tousled rather badly as a result of frequent changes in position. Despite the cooler winter temperatures, he wore no shirt.
Someone else had entered the room rather irately. Nonetheless, he took extra pains to remain quiet as he sneaked over to the nightstand that served as his brother's headboard. Carefully, he reached for the volume knob and jerked it to the highest possible setting. Amazingly, this provoked absolutely no response. As he turned it back down, he was thankful that their father was already at work.
So apparently that won't work, thought the perpetrator. “Well, there's always the less subtle option...” he thought aloud. The intruder, who was more or less identical (save for the more weather-appropriate sleepwear), slowly drew back, preparing to lunge. “3...2...1...eeyah!” He pounced upon his sleeping twin, startling him awake.
“Oof!” he grunted as he was winded. Before he could spin around and retaliate, his assailant had already moved off.
“Dude, don't have your alarm on so loud! You're the one that gets up at 5:00, not me!” he complained to his victim.
As soon as he got his breath back, he retorted, “Well, sorry then. But that doesn't give you an excuse to jump on me like that, Brad!”
“Sorry. Couldn't resist. But just keep that freaking alarm down from now on?” he pleaded.
He sighed as he sat up and threw the covers off. “Fine, fine, I'll do that. Anyway, you don't have to be up for another 45 minutes.” He said the last statement as if he were really asking a question.
“Eheheh...” he started, “Well, I, uh, need to, ah, be there early today, and I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to drive me, Brandon?”
Brandon squinted at his identical twin. “Skipped detention again?”
“Ahaha...yeah.”
He sighed again. “Really, Brad...”
Now he began to beg. “Please? I'll do the dishes for the rest of the week!”
“Okay, fine, you've won me over. Just don't beg next time.” He climbed off of the futon and stretched, his semi-muscular form becoming apparent. “Be ready in 45 minutes. I'm using the shower up here, by the way.”
Brad scowled, then skulked downstairs to the other bathroom.
Ah, just another normal morning... Brandon thought as he brought his clothes for the day, a simple pair of jeans and his neon orange band T-shirt, into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
----------
He was thankful by the time lunch had rolled around. Not wasting any time when the bell rang, he raced out of the locker room and all the way down the the cafeteria (on the opposite end of the school). Smoothly, he glided through the servery, taking a slice of sausage pizza along with a carton of milk and a banana. He rang it up and then briskly continued walking to the band room.
Usually, he would sit down with the clarinets, his friends. Today, however, he wanted to get his lunch down quickly. He went to the other side of the spacious room and sat on the highest riser (the one for the trumpet players in the jazz band). He leaned his back against the wall, with the heavy green curtains between the two. Quickly, he scarfed his lunch. He was one who normally would take his time to savor the flavor, but he had something he wanted to do. On his way to the instrument storage area, he tossed his trash into the garbage bin.
He made a beeline for his locker, spinning the combination lock upon arrival. He jerked it open and slid the latch to the left, allowing him to open it up. He snatched his music and an empty film canister first. Then he set them down and reached into his locker again, grabbing the handle of the instrument case and pulling it out.
Before he set out into the hallway yet again, he stopped at the sink beside the doors. He filled the canister about one-third of the way full with water, then took it with him as he attempted to go claim a practice room before they were all taken. Fortunately, there turned out to be just one left. Unfortunately, it was the smallest one available. He sighed. Just my luck. Nonetheless, he slipped inside.
Once inside, he set the film canister on the stand with his music while he opened the case, revealing a beautiful bassoon. He opened a compartment inside the case and took out an old mint tin. He then opened the tin and looked over his three reeds. He had made two of them himself, and the third one was simply store-bought. He selected the store-bought one (as he wasn't sure how good the other two were) and steeped it in the water.
While it soaked, he took the various joints and assembled them, attaching the seat strap and crook last. He pulled out the particular piece he wanted to practice from his folder. Then, he took the reed from the film canister. Putting it in his mouth, he blew a few times, getting rid of excess moisture. Gingerly, he stuck it on the crook and then played a few scales to warm up.
Finally, he was ready. Just as he was about to begin playing, though, he noticed someone standing outside the door, staring in. It wouldn't have bothered him so much had she not seemed so malevolent. Her long hair was so black that hardly had any shine to it. She was rather tall with a somewhat voluptuous figure. But what defined the hateful aura about her was her face. Her thin eyebrows were furrowed contemptuously at him as she glared. To be quite honest, she scared him very badly. And yet, he couldn't look away.
Eventually, he had to blink. The moment he opened his eyes again, though, it was as if she were never there. A shiver ran deeply down his spine as he tried to reassure himself that he was not crazy. Eventually, he resumed practicing and thought nothing else of it for the remainder of the school day.
5:00 AM. Such a bleak, dreary time in the morning. Any sensible person would still be snuggled up under their comforter if at all possible. Unfortunately, this demographic did not include certain students of East Knoll High School. One student in particular, though, stood out among the other members of his group as the only one who actually enjoyed rising early.
The boy lay on a green futon, still asleep as the alarm continued to sound loudly. He lay on his stomach, sprawled out under the covers. His short red hair was tousled rather badly as a result of frequent changes in position. Despite the cooler winter temperatures, he wore no shirt.
Someone else had entered the room rather irately. Nonetheless, he took extra pains to remain quiet as he sneaked over to the nightstand that served as his brother's headboard. Carefully, he reached for the volume knob and jerked it to the highest possible setting. Amazingly, this provoked absolutely no response. As he turned it back down, he was thankful that their father was already at work.
So apparently that won't work, thought the perpetrator. “Well, there's always the less subtle option...” he thought aloud. The intruder, who was more or less identical (save for the more weather-appropriate sleepwear), slowly drew back, preparing to lunge. “3...2...1...eeyah!” He pounced upon his sleeping twin, startling him awake.
“Oof!” he grunted as he was winded. Before he could spin around and retaliate, his assailant had already moved off.
“Dude, don't have your alarm on so loud! You're the one that gets up at 5:00, not me!” he complained to his victim.
As soon as he got his breath back, he retorted, “Well, sorry then. But that doesn't give you an excuse to jump on me like that, Brad!”
“Sorry. Couldn't resist. But just keep that freaking alarm down from now on?” he pleaded.
He sighed as he sat up and threw the covers off. “Fine, fine, I'll do that. Anyway, you don't have to be up for another 45 minutes.” He said the last statement as if he were really asking a question.
“Eheheh...” he started, “Well, I, uh, need to, ah, be there early today, and I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to drive me, Brandon?”
Brandon squinted at his identical twin. “Skipped detention again?”
“Ahaha...yeah.”
He sighed again. “Really, Brad...”
Now he began to beg. “Please? I'll do the dishes for the rest of the week!”
“Okay, fine, you've won me over. Just don't beg next time.” He climbed off of the futon and stretched, his semi-muscular form becoming apparent. “Be ready in 45 minutes. I'm using the shower up here, by the way.”
Brad scowled, then skulked downstairs to the other bathroom.
Ah, just another normal morning... Brandon thought as he brought his clothes for the day, a simple pair of jeans and his neon orange band T-shirt, into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
----------
He was thankful by the time lunch had rolled around. Not wasting any time when the bell rang, he raced out of the locker room and all the way down the the cafeteria (on the opposite end of the school). Smoothly, he glided through the servery, taking a slice of sausage pizza along with a carton of milk and a banana. He rang it up and then briskly continued walking to the band room.
Usually, he would sit down with the clarinets, his friends. Today, however, he wanted to get his lunch down quickly. He went to the other side of the spacious room and sat on the highest riser (the one for the trumpet players in the jazz band). He leaned his back against the wall, with the heavy green curtains between the two. Quickly, he scarfed his lunch. He was one who normally would take his time to savor the flavor, but he had something he wanted to do. On his way to the instrument storage area, he tossed his trash into the garbage bin.
He made a beeline for his locker, spinning the combination lock upon arrival. He jerked it open and slid the latch to the left, allowing him to open it up. He snatched his music and an empty film canister first. Then he set them down and reached into his locker again, grabbing the handle of the instrument case and pulling it out.
Before he set out into the hallway yet again, he stopped at the sink beside the doors. He filled the canister about one-third of the way full with water, then took it with him as he attempted to go claim a practice room before they were all taken. Fortunately, there turned out to be just one left. Unfortunately, it was the smallest one available. He sighed. Just my luck. Nonetheless, he slipped inside.
Once inside, he set the film canister on the stand with his music while he opened the case, revealing a beautiful bassoon. He opened a compartment inside the case and took out an old mint tin. He then opened the tin and looked over his three reeds. He had made two of them himself, and the third one was simply store-bought. He selected the store-bought one (as he wasn't sure how good the other two were) and steeped it in the water.
While it soaked, he took the various joints and assembled them, attaching the seat strap and crook last. He pulled out the particular piece he wanted to practice from his folder. Then, he took the reed from the film canister. Putting it in his mouth, he blew a few times, getting rid of excess moisture. Gingerly, he stuck it on the crook and then played a few scales to warm up.
Finally, he was ready. Just as he was about to begin playing, though, he noticed someone standing outside the door, staring in. It wouldn't have bothered him so much had she not seemed so malevolent. Her long hair was so black that hardly had any shine to it. She was rather tall with a somewhat voluptuous figure. But what defined the hateful aura about her was her face. Her thin eyebrows were furrowed contemptuously at him as she glared. To be quite honest, she scared him very badly. And yet, he couldn't look away.
Eventually, he had to blink. The moment he opened his eyes again, though, it was as if she were never there. A shiver ran deeply down his spine as he tried to reassure himself that he was not crazy. Eventually, he resumed practicing and thought nothing else of it for the remainder of the school day.