04-01-2012, 09:21 PM
This is just the first draft, so I'm expecting constructive criticism! Likes, dislikes...whatever! If it's boring, SAY SO. If it's good, SAY SO.
"Hey, Mom, you know what you should make on Saturday?" I asked my mom. Mom looked up from the plate she was washing. "Chocolate chip pancakes!"
Mom thought about it for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. Would she be able to do it, or not? Or would I have to wait until Sunday? Or worse- next week?! I shivered, waiting for a yes," "no," or "maybe," or a "wait until Sunday."
"Allright," Mom announced. "I'll try and see what I can do." I felt a surge of energy go through me; my eyes widened and I jumped a foot in the air.
"YEAH!" I screamed. When I landed, I added, "Oh, and uh, by the way, Sara asked if I can sleep over on Saturday. At 6."
"Sure, but don't you and Sara have EMT class on Sunday?" Mom asked.
"Wait, we have class?"
"Yeah, at 8 AM."
"Aw, shit!" I exclaimed. "I forgot! Ugh, God damn it!" As much as I enjoy going to school to become an EMT, I absolutely despise getting up early and Mom knows it.
"Well, you can go to Sara's," Mom said. "As long as you can get up early."
"Aw, man," I sighed, defeated. "I wanted to sleep in till, like, 11 or 12:30."
"No, no more sleeping in for you, you lazy shit!" Mom whipped around with the soup ladle in her hand. She had been washing it. "You're gonna be an EMT someday, and if you work the day shift, you'll have to get up every morning at 5 or 5:30 for your 6:00 shift."
"Yeah, but I'm gonna do the night shift," I said coolly. "'Cause I'm a night owl, and I can stay up for as long as I want! I go to bed at 1, 1:30, or 2 AM every night, anyway! Even on school nights!"
Oops, I thought. The look on my mom's face...Mom's eyes were as wide as the flat-screen in the living room. Her grip on the soup ladle tightened. Suddenly, she slammed the ladle down, into the soapy sink. I winced, wishing I was one of those dishes, just peacefully sitting in the sink. Dishes don't have to get up at 6:45 for school. Dishes don't have to write Hamlet essays or do annotated bibliographies. Dishes don't have to lift heavy 185-lbs dummies on stretchers in EMS school. Although I slightly like lifting.
"What?" Mom began. "WHAT?!"
I cowered into a corner, hoping there was an easy escape from what she was about to do. But the only thing behind me was the wall. God damn it! There were two piles of laundry on both sides of me. I tried diving into the pile on my right, but it was useless.
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