After coming back from the park, I felt so emotionally drained.
My dad works as the manager of a corporate company which publishes a whole lot of books, and they include writers like Ashton Man, Weird Goo Boy and 17-year-old writer genius.
Or also known as, my dad gives chances to people under 18 to express themselves in a writing form and publish their work, whether good or bad. I've met Ashton, WGB and 17-year-old writer genius.
Dad loved those three and he brought them out for a cup of tea, and invited me along. Talking with them were okay, but mostly I kept to myself as I had no idea what they were saying since their English were like foreign language. (WGB was hard to watch because every two second, he snorts his goo into his nose again as it drools out, and I think it got into his cup of mocha when the goo from his nose was too late to snort back.)
My parents met when they were 16 and had dated ever since. They settled when they were 21, got married and had 2 kids - Me and Maryam, my baby sister.
I guess you could call my dad the geek in the class, but those stupid comments about him being an anti-social and his geekiness would never pay off when Dad was in high school was all overrated, because he beats all of his classmates today, carrier-wise. One of his classmates turned to become a hobo when he was 21, and until today, we could see him wandering around the streets around our neighbourhood. His name was Chuck and he changed it to Bob, because Chuck was too hard to spell.
Dad always throw a penny or two at him, so Bob/Chuck would remember that Dad was the underdog, and that Bob/Chuck would always be reminded that he had done a humongous mistake, because he was the one who insulted Dad the most. So there, in your face!
Mum, though, was the beauty in class. She was a straight-A student, too. So she got along with Dad nonetheless, and everyone else got green with jealousy.
Except the other girls who didn't see what Mum had in Dad.
Anyway, I threw my bagpack onto my bed and unpack all my books and my apple. I grabbed the apple in my two hands, cradled it before violently throwing it outside the street through my window where later will be munched up by vicious dogs or flattened by car tires.
Woe is the apple!
I didn't wait to watch the apple getting under the tires or under the muzzle of a dog, thank you very much, because I had so much else to do.
My Story: 17-year-old laid on the desk of my computer table. It was a book from 17-year-old genius writer. She gave it to me for free and I'd been hung on it ever since. Oh and by the way, her name is Francis.
I hesitated reading it or doing my homework, and I chose homework.
Don't ask me why, I have my dad's genes.
So here I am, doing coordinates in Maths.
*
I rolled in bed that night, reliving my day.
Especially the part about the dance club and the cheerleading club. It kind of stuck to my head.
Maybe because these were the only things that didn't involve Delia-Embarrassment or Granola-Freak-Session.
And unexpectedly, I remembered about the Class President Election.
Honestly, I don't even know what CLASS PRESIDENT does, except being stuck-up and self-centered. Why in the world would Becks ask me to try out, against Jen Dane. She's been it for 3 years in a row, big whoop.
Which reminds me, how would Becks know all these stuff since she just moved into Zelcosh like I did.
But again, Becks is omniscient, knowing everything.
I thought about those bright days when Wendy and I started laughing about a guy that was so blur, he was stuttering when someone asked for his name.
"Hey, what's your name?"
"Huh? Uh-uh, what?"
"What's your name?"
"My name?" he shrugs.
"Ah, nevermind." She walks away.
And when I offered my chips to Joshua when we were in the bus. He pulled his shirt over his head and looked at the chips through his shirt-covered face. And he groans, "Noooo..."
I wondered if he was retarded, but then figured out no because Joshua was sick as we had been travelling on a snake-like road, and if he did eat the chip, he'd probably puked all over me. So I ate it anyway.
And when Wendy thought a 35 degree water was cold, she had stuck her legs in like no tomorrow and her eyes widened instantaneously and screamed, "Hot, hot, AAAAH!"
I had screamed/laughed at her as her legs were bright red at that moment, matching her red pedicure.
And when Carl had thought the guy beside him was his buddy(it was actually a 40-year-old looking man who was short as a dwarf), he ran up and hugged his back, crowing, "We're gays."
All of us laughed, because the man turned slowly around and said, "What?" in this deep tone soprano voice.
I swear Carl was scared witless, and ran away to hid behind me.
"Oh, he just, forgot to drink his pills." I suggested to the man, who walked slowly, lingering his eyes on Carl, and was out of sight.
Then after all these memories, I drifted to sleep, not forgetting to pray that tomorrow would be better, and that I'd summon enough guts to meet Ms. Someone to enquire about the dance club.
- Adam's gay, hope of marrying him is crushed.
- School wasn't really exciting - if you consider me transforming to the Hulk because of a Granola is entertaining, then good for you.
- Jennifer Dane - somehow her name sounds so grand - actually realizes I exist and hates me for it. No, I don't know how sure I am of that but yes, I do have a brain to actually guess.
- I'm freaking out, and I've promised myself to not let anything get to me on the first day of Zelcosh.
- Speaking of which, everyone thinks that I like Tom.
- Ms. Cam has already a mindset that Tom isn't doing a great job as a buddy when I was to blame.
My dad works as the manager of a corporate company which publishes a whole lot of books, and they include writers like Ashton Man, Weird Goo Boy and 17-year-old writer genius.
Or also known as, my dad gives chances to people under 18 to express themselves in a writing form and publish their work, whether good or bad. I've met Ashton, WGB and 17-year-old writer genius.
Dad loved those three and he brought them out for a cup of tea, and invited me along. Talking with them were okay, but mostly I kept to myself as I had no idea what they were saying since their English were like foreign language. (WGB was hard to watch because every two second, he snorts his goo into his nose again as it drools out, and I think it got into his cup of mocha when the goo from his nose was too late to snort back.)
My parents met when they were 16 and had dated ever since. They settled when they were 21, got married and had 2 kids - Me and Maryam, my baby sister.
I guess you could call my dad the geek in the class, but those stupid comments about him being an anti-social and his geekiness would never pay off when Dad was in high school was all overrated, because he beats all of his classmates today, carrier-wise. One of his classmates turned to become a hobo when he was 21, and until today, we could see him wandering around the streets around our neighbourhood. His name was Chuck and he changed it to Bob, because Chuck was too hard to spell.
Dad always throw a penny or two at him, so Bob/Chuck would remember that Dad was the underdog, and that Bob/Chuck would always be reminded that he had done a humongous mistake, because he was the one who insulted Dad the most. So there, in your face!
Mum, though, was the beauty in class. She was a straight-A student, too. So she got along with Dad nonetheless, and everyone else got green with jealousy.
Except the other girls who didn't see what Mum had in Dad.
Anyway, I threw my bagpack onto my bed and unpack all my books and my apple. I grabbed the apple in my two hands, cradled it before violently throwing it outside the street through my window where later will be munched up by vicious dogs or flattened by car tires.
Woe is the apple!
I didn't wait to watch the apple getting under the tires or under the muzzle of a dog, thank you very much, because I had so much else to do.
My Story: 17-year-old laid on the desk of my computer table. It was a book from 17-year-old genius writer. She gave it to me for free and I'd been hung on it ever since. Oh and by the way, her name is Francis.
I hesitated reading it or doing my homework, and I chose homework.
Don't ask me why, I have my dad's genes.
So here I am, doing coordinates in Maths.
*
I rolled in bed that night, reliving my day.
Especially the part about the dance club and the cheerleading club. It kind of stuck to my head.
Maybe because these were the only things that didn't involve Delia-Embarrassment or Granola-Freak-Session.
And unexpectedly, I remembered about the Class President Election.
Honestly, I don't even know what CLASS PRESIDENT does, except being stuck-up and self-centered. Why in the world would Becks ask me to try out, against Jen Dane. She's been it for 3 years in a row, big whoop.
Which reminds me, how would Becks know all these stuff since she just moved into Zelcosh like I did.
But again, Becks is omniscient, knowing everything.
I thought about those bright days when Wendy and I started laughing about a guy that was so blur, he was stuttering when someone asked for his name.
"Hey, what's your name?"
"Huh? Uh-uh, what?"
"What's your name?"
"My name?" he shrugs.
"Ah, nevermind." She walks away.
And when I offered my chips to Joshua when we were in the bus. He pulled his shirt over his head and looked at the chips through his shirt-covered face. And he groans, "Noooo..."
I wondered if he was retarded, but then figured out no because Joshua was sick as we had been travelling on a snake-like road, and if he did eat the chip, he'd probably puked all over me. So I ate it anyway.
And when Wendy thought a 35 degree water was cold, she had stuck her legs in like no tomorrow and her eyes widened instantaneously and screamed, "Hot, hot, AAAAH!"
I had screamed/laughed at her as her legs were bright red at that moment, matching her red pedicure.
And when Carl had thought the guy beside him was his buddy(it was actually a 40-year-old looking man who was short as a dwarf), he ran up and hugged his back, crowing, "We're gays."
All of us laughed, because the man turned slowly around and said, "What?" in this deep tone soprano voice.
I swear Carl was scared witless, and ran away to hid behind me.
"Oh, he just, forgot to drink his pills." I suggested to the man, who walked slowly, lingering his eyes on Carl, and was out of sight.
Then after all these memories, I drifted to sleep, not forgetting to pray that tomorrow would be better, and that I'd summon enough guts to meet Ms. Someone to enquire about the dance club.
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