Well... this is a basically a creative spurt that didnt really have a plot or anything, because I have never tried to write a whole story before. It describes American suburbia and... my life. In the morning at least. Basically... the everyday grind.
However, now that I understand how this website works, I will say that I want this to be a uplifting story. This melancholy beginning will just be the starting point, and the story will become happier as it goes on. I want the protagonist (me) to
Step, step, step. Footsteps falling limply on the weeping asphalt. Swing, bump, swing bump. Bag knocking on my right leg. The air is crying. Wet, trickles of rain dropping from the melancholy sky, the Earth is mourning again. She sobs in distress and pain, her tears drizzling hope into the patches of swallowed ground. She’s attempting to water feeling back into the earth that is being lost to the roots of the asphalt, the pounding of the rushing wheels, the trash dead and forgotten on the ground. She tries to save. She tries to wash away the wrongs so callously done, the daily habits of the fire ants.
The fire ants. They crawl all over the earth, devouring all the food, gorging in the footsteps of the moment.
Step, step, step. My feet dig into the melting ground on my yard. Water squelches up around my feet in protest then retreats back into the earth as my foot departs, leaving my own special brand in the dirt. I own you dirt. I will mark you, trash you, poison you, and you can’t do a thing about it. I sighed; I had just flattened all the new hairs of grass sprouting.
The key slides into the lock, shoving up all of the pins and “click”, the lock accepts the key’s body. I push the door open, and it gives way, ushering me into home. The wet slick of the rain still dotted in pearls on my clothes, and I carefully wiped off the moisture coating my face in relief. I had escaped from the sorrowful sky.
“Ugg, I’m so tired! I had a timed writing in AP Eng, a gigantic chapter seven test in Calculus, PALS oral and writing en español, and a project in economics! Ugg, and now I have all this homework to do tonight. I’m going to be up until, like, one or something.” I gave a long, tired, exhausted, spent, wrenched yawn, “And I only got four or five hours of sleep yesterday because of studying.” The phone rang, alerting one and all and all and one that “Yes someone is calling right now, pick me up!” I ripped off my shoes in annoyance, “Ew, they’re all wet!” and slinked over to the phone, making it just as the answering machine was beginning to enlighten the unfortunate caller that the occupants were gone fishing. My finger twitched the phone on as I gave a reserved, annoyed, wet “Hello?” An “okay I know you’re tired but I’m tired too so let’s get to the point” “Hello?” rasped back from the electronic imitating speaker. “Hi hon.” continued the aired voice, “How was school?” “Good.” Replied my “I’m lying but don’t ask about it or else I’ll get annoyed” voice. “That’s good.” came back the “yes I know you’re tired but remember I’m tired too and I won’t ask any further, so let’s get to the point” electric voice, “I’ll be home around four okay? I have some work for Rosa that I’ve got to finish up. This project is really such a pain.” “Yeah,” I quickly, neutrally asserted. “Well, just do your homework until I get home.” “That’s what I always do mom, you don’t have to tell me, I’m not some stupid brainless kid or something.” I snapped, leaking out some of the sadness, the disappointment, the weeping. “Okay, okay, fine, fine! Just be good, see you then,” blurted the electric voice delicately, defensively, and resignedly. “Okay bye.” ended my “okay sorry, see you later, gotta go” voice to the other end of the line. I pressed finally the “end” button. A mental sigh of relief puffed out of my body, my tension eased, the shell closed again, and the rector scale grew still. Turning dismissively away from the blinking silent phone, my socked feet whispering over the dull cool floor, I lifted up the weight of my bag, my life, my worries, and retreated up the stairs to the far corner of the house. Up to my sanctuary, my Rapunzel’s prison, my very ordinary everyday habit of a room. I shut the door, locking out the sorrowful darkness, the worried walls of the house, and clicked the lock. The click resounded throughout the empty, cool, silent house and quickly faded; a mere passing vibration to the sightless objects. Outside, the faded clouds continued to baptize the earth, its creatures. However, many never felt a single drop in their cages of warmth, and they never once witnessed nor felt the tears of the earth calling to them.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Dazed, the sound penetrates the fog of sleep, coming closer and closer, dragging me up from the pitch black deep. “UGG!!” I moan out while slapping the snooze button with the dead weight of my arm and then sinking back into the warm cocooned bed. Wet sweat from harried, feverish dreams unpleasantly chills my sheets, and my eyes stay half-lidded, my mind slowly pulsing. Hand clasping the soft bedspread and hair delicately tangling over my lax face, I suddenly drop back into the darkness.
“Julia! Julia get up!” my mom banging on the door, I slam awake, eyes quickly diverting to the clock, I realize I have five minutes to get ready and catch the bus. I thrust the sheets to the side and run to my closet, ripping open the doors, grabbing any easily accessed clothing that don’t need any time to coordinate. I shove all my books, binders, pencil case, and textbooks into my backpack and close it with a slashing zip. I run to the bathroom, swipe at my teeth with the tooth brush, spit, rinse, rip through my hair with the comb, run downstairs lugging the backpack, and dash out the door. “Shoot, shoot, SHOOT! Please be there, please be there!” I am rushing over the wet grass and crashing through the soaking sober green tree. Feet, shoes slapping the grayed asphalt, crunching on the grit, I am charging down the hill, my backpack punching me in the back. “Shoot!” that monstrous yellow bus is blinking in annoyance at the bottom of the hill already. “Wait for meeeee!” I screamed and stumbling down the hill and rushing straight into the open maw of the bus. “If you are late one more time I am going to write you up!” my bus driver screeched at me. I barely registered her cheery remark as I stumped into the flabby rubber seats. Exhausted, I sighed, turning my head to rest and jar against the cold window, the heat rising from me and misting it. I sighed, my sleep, my emotion breathing out of me, and drawing a trail of warm condensation on the window. The bus choked up and bumped as it started up again on the road, and I slowly pulled down my blinds to the world, and rested in my own darkness.