August 31, 2009
Dear Diary,
Ma took me shoppin’. She bought the entire store, first goin’ over to the supplies, then wanderin’ ‘roundabout the place. She bought a lamp, a chair, a desk, pencils, magnets, and all sorts o’ other things. When in the checkout line, she told me she’s a com-pol-sive buyer. She likes to buy things and can’t stop herself. I don’t think that has to be a bad thing. She says in the state our family is in, it is bad.
We took Quiz to the doctor today. The doc says that Quiz is in bad shape. She’s fightin’ a losin’ battle. Don’t know what that means. When I tell her so (the doc), she just smiles and pats my head. I hate when she does that. The kids at school call me stupid, but I’m not that stupid. Then the doc takes Ma outside and talks with her while I sit and wait. I really hate that. What is so darned important that I have to sit inside and wait for Ma and doc to finish talkin’? What are they even talkin’ ‘bout that’s too scary for a twelve-year-old t’hear? I really, really, hate that. When I snuck a peek at Quiz, he was pantin’ like some slobbery bloodhound after he finished stalkin’ someone. He was also wheezin’ like no tomorrow. I can’t blame him. I never liked the smells of this place either.
I dread tomorrow, since it’s the first day of school. All the kids’ll be laughin’ at me, and they’ll probably play ‘hit the bozo’ (I play the bozo), and Ma won’t make me lunch anymore, and some snotty ol’ kid’ll say I stink, and a teacher or two who thinks they know me will try to talk to me ‘bout my ‘problem’. They all call me stupid. Kids do on the playground. Teachers do in the break room. Yep, you go on thinkin’ that teachers are your best friends. Well, they’re not. If anything, they wanna tease you like they probably harassed someone when they were young. If kids and teachers were to go together, you might as well band tweety bird and Sylvester the cat together versus Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd in a game o’ volleyball. I really, really don’t wanna go to school tomorrow. Even though I have the coolest backpack that everyone wanted last year, and I have the favorite meal that everyone had last year, they won’t care. They’ll just be another favorite this and favorite that.
Now, in my bed, I hear Ma and Grandma talkin’ again. Same as usual. It’s gettin’ pretty late. I’m gonna close my eyes. I sure hope that a tornado comes and knocks over the school.
Tristan Sandstone,
Resident of Montgomery, Alabama
578 Milkway Street, 98302
Allahmaya9638 Community Member 
|
|
