Week 25: This Week’s Winning Stories
Not the Best Person
This dishonorable, unbelievable, and inexplicable person has no manners, slurps his beverages, and eats with his hands–even when he has a fork and knife!
He is inexcusably rude. Furthermore, he makes irrational decisions overconfidently and is inconsistent with saying thank you or good-bye.
Hmm…what else? I know! if he makes a sale on whatever product he sells, he has unbelievable and unreasonable prices that are unprofitable for the seller. It’s nuts, and so is he. I think he is a great salesman–not really! What do you think?
The bird soared above Amethyst. Domino ran as fast as he could. “Nothing is making any sense,” he said through breaths; an unpleasant way of speaking.
After deciding that they were far enough away, they stopped running. “Why did you call that dog Rosemary?” Domino asked.
“Her birth name is Rosemary. She renamed herself Charm and it’s been hard to remember to call her that since… she is my sister, older sister to be exact,” Amethyst sat down and sighed. “I don’t approve of the name. She gives herself too much credit.”
Domino quietly chuckled and they shared a moment of silence. “How come you looked so afraid of that pack?”
“Rosemary brought this pack together to stop these crystals from ruining the world. They wanted me to be a warrior but I felt it was unsuitable for me, and then Rosemary said that I would find a chosen one and sent me out to find one. For some reason though, they treat me horribly.”
Domino lied down and Amethyst did too. They lay peacefully.
“Unbelievable, unacceptable, hurting a dog like you,” Domino said to himself.
“What?” Amethyst blinked rapidly for a confused effect.
“What? I didn’t say anything.” Domino tried to avoid making eye contact with her.
“Uh, do you have an idea of why she’s treating me unreasonably?” Amethyst reclaimed a pleasant smile.
“I don’t know, unexplainable I guess,” Domino slightly tilted his head and smirked. “Your sister is pretty irrational.”
“Rosemary just hates me,” Amethyst rose up her head and relaxed her shoulders.
“How come the weird effect, like falling asleep whenever I didn’t get closer to the crystals, affects me only now, not when I was a normal dog or before I met you?” Domino had been wondering this for a long time. “Also, why am I not getting affected now?”
“I don’t know, maybe since I know about this whole crystal stuff, I’m related to the crystals in some way and the power of the core crystal triggered the power inside you when I first met you,” Amethyst realized that she couldn’t see the bird anywhere.
“Core crystal?” Domino followed her glances and to realized that the bird was nowhere to be seen.
“The core crystal is the source of all the crystals, if it breaks; all the smaller crystals doing the weird things when you touch them will go away.” Amethyst said while getting up to go look for the bird.
“Remember when you were telling me that my life was about to change, starting with this long and annoying journey. Why did you say it was long and annoying if it was only a day away?” Domino laughed at himself for remembering that she had said that.
“Dramatic effect,” she responded. “Phoenix bird!” she called.
“What’s a phoenix?” Domino asked, he doubted that she knew, she didn’t mention that the bird was a phoenix at all.
“I don’t know, I heard one of the dogs saying it,” Amethyst said. “Whatever, let’s go hunting though, I’m hungry.”
Domino nodded and the two set off to go hunt. It was early morning by the time they had eaten their fill.
“Anything more on why I’m chosen?” Domino lay down, he had to admit, this was undeniable better then dog kibble.
“No, the prey here is very skinny though, since you’re a wolf now, you’re going to need more food than me.” she closed her eyes and peacefully smiled.
“What’s that?” Domino had spotted a faint light in the distance. Amethyst opened her eyes and squinted to find what he was seeing.
He trotted over to find the phoenix sitting next to a tiny crystal shard. Amethyst circled it and her face lit up.
“This is one of those crystals that when you touch them something good or bad happens,” Amethyst stared at the crystal shard. “If you touch it then it will shatter and nothing will happen.”
“Hold on a second, how do you know this?” Domino lowered his head down and saw his reflection in the crystal shard. He took a moment to admire himself.
“The pack knows and they told me,” Amethyst played with her paws in the dirt.
“Right,” Domino laid his paw on the crystal and it shattered immediately.
“Oh. For some reason I thought that would be more amazing,” Domino stared blankly at a tree branch barely hanging onto the tree.
“Sorry to disappoint you, I didn’t realize having cool powers would be so boring,” Amethyst waved her tail from side to side.
“I didn’t say that having powers would be boring… Wait. I have actual powers?” Domino’s eyes widened and he pictured himself heroically saving some random dog. Maybe it’s dishonorable to think about me being a hero, thought Domino, he started to panic.
“Well, uh, you saw what happened! A beam of light came shooting out of your chest!” Amethyst giggled.
“That sounds weird,” Domino joined in on the giggles. “Technically, it was coming from the crystal that’s on my chest.”
An idea came to Domino’s mind, “We should name the phoenix.”
“Why?” Amethyst found that the phoenix was perched on her shoulder.
“I don’t feel like saying “the phoenix” or “the bird” every time we need to address him.” Domino made a fair point and Amethyst racked her brain for name ideas.
“Scorch.” Amethyst finally answered.
“Talon.” Domino overconfidently suggested.
“Zeal.” An unrecognizable dog stepped out of the brush.
Past Years’ Winning Stories
My One Sock
If I only had one more sock,
this situation wouldn’t be so unreasonable.
I’ve searched high and I’ve searched low,
But this still remains unexplainable.
Would it be dishonorable and inexcusable
To become irrational?
Has the other sock plainly
Just because I don’t have two socks,
I tend to trip and step on rocks,
And that’s just unacceptable!
I know I didn’t swallow it
Because socks are indigestible,
And know I didn’t sell it;
that would be unprofitable.
I will overconfidently continue
to search for that one other sock!
The Naughty Child
“Mom! Can I have a cookie?” Harry yelled at the top of his lungs.
“No!” Harry’s mom yelled back.
“AWW! WHY NOT?” he screamed.
“Because I said so!” she answered.
“Fine,” he mumbled to himself. “I’ll just cause mischief until she begs for mercy. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Twenty minutes later, he had completely destroyed the kitchen. Bags of flour were spilled everywhere, eggs were cracked all over the counter, and all the milk had been poured on the ground, not to mention the pasta sauce drizzled over everything.
“Okay, Harry, could you please-” Harry’s mom stopped short when she saw the mess. “HARRY! What have you done?” she spluttered.
“I tried to bake a cake!” Harry lied.
“With pasta sauce? Harry, this is completely unacceptable!” she exclaimed.
“Fine, I tried to get revenge.”
“Harry, this is completely irrational!” she said, with one last look of fury.
The Next Day…
Since the last prank was an utter fail, Harry decided to try a new tactic. He found his old pair of homemade stilts, mustache, and glasses to create the perfect disguise. He then grabbed a can of Gertrude’s Homemade Beans and went outside. He put on all of his gear, making sure in a small handheld mirror that he looked unrecognizable, and then he knocked on the door.
“Hello?” Harry’s mom said, skeptically.
“Hello, ma’am. Would you like to buy some delicious beans?” he said, using his best grown-up voice.
“Uh, sure?” his mom responded.
“Okay. One cookie in return please!” he said, thinking he might actually pull it off.
“Harry, I know what you are up to! Come inside now!” she demanded.
“Oh, darn!” Harry muttered as he was pulled into the house.
“Harry, this is dishonorable! How am I supposed to trust you?” she asked.
“I don’t know-” Harry mumbled.
“It is unbelievable how inexcusable your actions are!” she droned. She continued, “Plus, you know you’re allergic to gluten! The cookie would be indigestible!”
“I know, but-” Harry protested.
“No buts! Oh, Harry, you’ve always been so good! This bad behavior is unexplainable!” she said, overconfidently.
“I don’t agree!”
“You’ve always been disagreeable!” his mom said.
“No, I have not!” Harry argued.
“Harry, this whole thing has been unreasonable, but I think we should agree to disagree.”
“Okay, but I still want a cookie.”
Why Won’t You Care for Me?
Oh, why won’t you care for me?
I’m not unpleasant or overconfident
And I will never disagree,
So will you water my roots?
It’s not so much to ask you see.
Oh, why won’t you care for me?
I’m certainly not dishonorable.
I’m nontaxable and undeniably pleasant,
As you will soon know and believe.
Oh, why won’t you care for me?
I don’t have to be recharged.
I only need some watered roots,
Not a trip to Juilliard.
This is not an irrational question,
Nor is it unreasonable,
It’s nice and simple and easy to do,
And it’s certainly not confusable,
Won’t you care for me?
I looked at her wide-eyed. “You don’t believe that my sentence is of truth?”
She looked back at me. “These past stories of yours were all disagreeable. Why do you feel as though I should believe this one?” her voice had an undeniably overconfident tone to it.
“You are not wrong to think such,” I unpleasantly stated. “Your reasons are of no question.” I placed my hands on her shoulder. “But it seems irrational for you to give up hope in my truth.”
“You’ve come to me, insisting he is here,” she said, running her fingers like a soft comb through her hair. “Look up you did not, for he is dead!” A tear made of silken liquid sunk down her left cheek, leaving a trail of remembrance. “Unreasonable is your thought,” her eyes flared as she spoke, “dishonorable are your words.” Her cheeks reddened. “Unacceptable is your claim,” she said. Her chin raised. “America and all be happy if you forget this happened, for one’s thoughts be nonreturnable; one’s death does not undo.” She stopped to take a breath, “Death has taken hold of your beloved father. We miss him very so; lo, our sorrow is near incurable yet you need to let him go.”
“Then know he is there, only I, Mother.”
The Fall of The Snake King
An unbelievable thing has happened to me. They demoted me from my position as king. I’m not the king of the snakes anymore. I overconfidently walked up to the new snake king and said, “I’M SUPPOSED TO BE THE SNAKE KING!” After that I tackled him. Then his guards threw me out and I sadly cried.
“This is irrational!” I say crying. I slither into my room at my owner’s house to fall asleep trying to forget the betrayal. I wake up the next morning and think this can’t be true. Yet it is undeniably real. My sadness is incurable. The new snake king should be dishonorable, and I am going to make it that way. Still, I need to eat breakfast first, I think happily.
I go back to the new snake king’s castle. This is unacceptable! I think, feeling angry. I sneak into the castle to see the king wearing my snake chains. This is unbelievable! “I’m going to stop this!” I say out loud. He should be unsuccessful because I’m the special snake that can talk?!!? Not him! I sneak up right behind him. My people’s things were nontaxable but the new snake king messed everything up and made it unprofitable. I’m going to fix it.
“Ouch!” my friend screamed. His scream was unpleasant to my ears. My friend, Oscar, was always a troublemaker, and he always had unbelievable, unacceptable behavior. The reason he had yelled was because I pinched him. He was always unreasonable about his stunts. The whole town knew that when they heard the name, Oscar, it was an undeniable “don’t try this at home” situation.
Oscar’s stunts were always unprofitable because even the professional stunt people were stealing his moves. He once said that he wished to return his moves to his imagination where they would be safe, but of course, they were nonreturnable.
So, I had taken Oscar to a stunt tournament. He looked pretty nervous, but I hoped he would win. All the other guys competing seemed pretty dishonorable. It was a good thing that Oscar’s energy was rechargeable with food. Oscar always performed overconfidently in his stunts, but could he win the tournament?
The Track Meet
I was about to start the first track meet of the season at Kenilworth Jr. High. We arrived at Petaluma High School, and the track was unrecognizable due to the rain. I had butterflies in my stomach and an irrational fear that I would get injured during my race. I had an indigestible steak the night before and that wasn’t helping my stomach. I was nervous about our 4×100 relay team because our passes had been inconsistent all week. Joe, a member of our relay team, had skipped practice all week, which was unacceptable to our coach. Since Joe’s absence was inexcusable, the coach pulled him off the relay team. I didn’t think that my coach was being unreasonable, but I wish that he would have let Joe run with us.
The race was about to start, and all the runners took their positions. The other team overconfidently stated that they would win the race. The starter’s gun sounded, and the first relay runners were off to a fast start. The first two hand-offs went smoothly, and we were neck and neck with the other team. On the third leg of the relay, the other team purposely tripped our runner, Sam, and he almost fell. It was unpleasant to watch the whole scene. Then Sam recovered and caught up to the other team. Our team won by an inch, and it was truly unbelievable!
Steve was a nice boy, a smart boy; unbelievable brain, unexplainable politeness. Well, that is, until he elected to pursue the unrecognizable choice of burglary. Steve is unrecognizable to his family. His good choices are inconsistent; his bad choices are unacceptable. Steve’s parents say he is “dishonorable to the family.” and “his actions are irrational.”
Just tonight, Steve walked into the zoo, overconfidently, and stole one of their most prized possessions. His inexcusable behavior must stop.
For Steve is a unicorn burglar.
The Unpleasant Day
It all started when I was working my boring, unprofitable lemonade stand, and some weirdo came up to me and asked me if he could help me run the stand. I answered back, “No, and you are unsuitable for the job.” Then, he tore apart my stand! It was the most unbelievable, unacceptable, unreasonable, unpleasant thing ever!
So, obviously, I called the cops, and they said that he was just a spoiled little brat, who got everything he wanted, and he destroyed things when he was mad. I thought my day might improve, but that was not the case.
My day became worse when I went to the store to return something. The lady at the register said that the $100 pair of socks was nonreturnable. It was a disagreeable situation! I mean, how could a dirty, old, holey, very uncomfortable pair of too small socks be $100 (not including tax! Why did I buy them anyway?)? It was undeniable that it was a total rip off! So, I thought to myself, Always be careful about what you buy and what you do.
Next, I went to the phone store because my phone was dead, and I had forgotten to buy a charger. Well, it turns out, that the phone store employees just found out that the phone was made incorrectly, and there were tons of things wrong with it, including that the phone was not rechargeable. They wouldn’t even give me my money back or give me a card for a free phone!
Then, I thought to myself, How could this day get any worse? Of course, it immediately started to rain.
The Poor Little Girl
This story is dedicated to the young girl with cancer I saw last night.
VROOM! VROOM! I hear when a car pulls up next to us. I look over very quickly to see a little girl getting out of her car seat. I think that the little girl has cancer, if I saw correctly. This is a highly disagreeable observation, and I am hoping I am wrong because nobody wants to see a six-year-old who has cancer.
The petite girl is finally out of the car and is in perfect sight with my eyes and my parents’ eyes. I am right; the little girl does have cancer! I’m nearly crying to see that horrible sight even though it is unreasonable to cry at this because I have seen so many people with cancer. My stomach feels like there is a piece of indigestible food in there or maybe a roller coaster is doing flips inside my stomach. As my parents see the incurable young girl, they can hardly breathe!
“Maybe she will be cured in a few weeks,” I say overconfidently.
“I sure hope so,” say my dad and mom in unison. My dad and mom try to be undeniable in their hopeful answer, not wanting me to think about the fact that she might not get cured, but it is very hard not to worry about such a thing because she is so young in age. My night is now going extremely unpleasantly because I start thinking about the young girl who might pass away because of this devastating disease. I hope that the parents of that young child can get their daughter much better. I think that this whole thing is just unbelievable.
When my father went in to the restaurant to go and get our dinner, he saw the young girl and her parents sitting at the table eating their savory meals. My dad said that it was just unacceptable that they have to pay since they may have to spend money for their daughter and her health care, and now they will have to pay for an expensive dinner. So my dad told the cashier that he would like to pay for their dinner also, and they said why not?!
As we drive away with our amazing-smelling food, I pray for that little girl, and I hope that her cancer is not nonreturnable!
Tyrone and the Terrible Taxes
I sat down to do my taxes very overconfidently. It was the most unpleasant thing to do on a Saturday afternoon. I was worried I had to pay the government an unreasonable amount of money. Paying the government anything was sickening. There was no other word for it but indigestible.
Part of my concern over taxes was because I had bought a horse. I called him Tyrone Jackson. Tyrone was my business, and I was going make money by racing him in the Kentucky Derby. He was undeniably the fastest horse. However, before the race, Tyrone came down with an incurable disease called athlete’s hoof. This made Tyrone a lot slower than I thought he was going to be.
I tried to return Tyrone. I had bought Tyrone at www.horseomania.net. They told me that Tyrone was non-returnable. I was really upset. I had a horse that was slow and I could not return him. When I talked to the people at www.horseomania.net, I used some pretty bad words. They were unsuitable for most people’s ears. No matter what words I used, the people at www.horseomania.net were really disagreeable. I hung up the phone using more unsuitable words.
I then looked at poor Tyrone. He was walking by the window limping, but he was still really happy. He was singing Lady Gaga Neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh….. I had to laugh. Even if Tyrone wasn’t the fastest horse, he was hilarious and non-taxable.
The Intense Bike
One time there was a stubborn, dishonorable boy named Cam. He had an ultimate bike that was rechargeable. He was inexcusable, unacceptable, and unbelievable at the same time. He was a one-in-a-million type of kid. Cam was as mischievous as a teenager, but not the kind that committed dumb, foolish crimes.
Additionally, one beautiful day in Petaluma, California, Cam slammed his shiny, wood door and sprinted to his verdant, front yard. He dashed to his extreme bike and hopped on this piece of metal. He zoomed to his friend’s house, who was inconsistent about opening the door and was sometimes disagreeable. Clink! The friend overconfidently opened the door with a smirk on his face. As he noticed the glorious bike, he immediately started sprinting to the place where everyone did their jumps.
Vroom! The friends pulled up to the hangout, looking unrecognizable with their helmets on. Kids these days thought it was unreasonable to wear regular helmets. The boys automatically started jumping off the biggest and baddest jumps ever. They were flying higher than birds. Then, whack! Cam smacked the dirt with an enormous thump. As his friend lugged him back to his house, Cam’s unhappy mom was very frustrated. But then, as his mom gave him all of his “needed” treatments, he returned to normal. The very next day, they were on the same immense jumps.
Alcatraz: Free the Prisoners
“Don’t be unreasonable!” I shouted at my sidekick, Tom. There was absolutely no way we could sneak into a boat, free the prisoners in Alcatraz, and manage to save ourselves at the same time. It was an unbelievable statement made by a true, dim-witted fool.
“Well, I thought the guards would be noncombatant and not fight back,” Tom said.
“Of course they would fight back if we tried to let the prisoners go! It’s their job! Why do you think they carry around weapons? For decoration?” I asked questioningly with a wicked sneer. Tom had been quiet as a mouse after that. “Would you like to hear our plan now?”
Tom nodded violently and after a few moments of silence said, “When will we leave?”
* * *
Since Tom had finally admitted he was being irrational, we decided to take a bigger crew, but have some hang back and go in submarines instead of boats so we could gently pop out of the water. We knew we had to save most of the prisoners because we had been in there once, and we were two of the lucky escapees who weren’t caught in the act. Unfortunately, I think we might have been overconfidently striding into Alcatraz. We thought the submarine would make a quiet little plop! sound when it got out of the water, but instead it made a thunderous splash. That very moment had been an inexcusable, rookie mistake.
Everyone scurried out and made a mad dash behind a thickly vegetated area, so we could hide behind the leafy shrubs. We had to be unrecognizable and look like part of the tree if any guards were bright enough to figure out that’s where we darted. At that very second, when Tom and I first heard the twig snap, Tom sneezed. All of a sudden the footsteps stopped. The footsteps receded. At first, we thought we had been lucky, but of course, we weren’t. We soon heard shouts and alarms going off. It was either now or never.
* * *
We went into the prisoner cells and started slashing and breaking into the cells filled with prisoners.
“Aaaah! We knew you guys would come back for us!” the prisoners yelled.
“Have we ever left anyone behind and not come back for them?” I laughed.
The guards were coming, and lots of them! I had an unexplainable feeling of tingling and something inside of me that was acting strangely. As soon as all the captives were cut loose from their cells, we made a sprint for it back to the submarines. Luckily, there was an inconsistent amount of guards this evening so we carefully scuttled down the ladders to the submarines which were well-hidden.
I was expecting something different than us getting away. We never got away in any of our previous adventures. How do you think Tom and I ended up in Alcatraz?
* * *
When we got to the mainland, there was a disagreeable amount of security guards there. Of course, once again, it had been too good to be true. I tried leaving my comrades and making a dash for it, but there were too many guards there for any escape route. “Just kill me now,” I said with a sinister look.
“That would be too easy,” Guard One said.
“You tried to leave me!” Tom shrieked with a penetrating pitch. But that was all I heard after the sudden thump of being delivered into a boat.
The Female Knight
Nighttime is my favorite time of day, when the night is crisp; no moon, only stars dominating the open sky, and when the warmth of the fire burning bright is just enough to keep the chills at bay. The bonfire crackles and hisses, sending golden colored embers flying. But it’s only when the odd trio of wizened men come hobbling into the light of the fire that I really start paying attention, for they are the old ones, the keepers of ancient lore.
“…. and with her yellow hair catching the last rays of the sun, she rode off towards the west as a new person, as the first woman musketeer.” As Sir Ronald’s words lingered in the air, a dark shape could be seen hustling our way.
“Lidia!” The shape huffed, “You know how unacceptable this is. You are almost a grown woman, and you have responsibilities at home. You aren’t rechargeable you know, so I don’t see how you are going to do your morning chores, but you will have to do them all the same. I will see to that.” I groaned visibly. My fears were confirmed as the figure stepped forward, the light revealing my mother.
“I, um, well, you should have heard Sir Ronald’s magnificent story on—” I trailed off as I glimpsed the look portrayed on my mother’s face, “—on the first girl musketeer?” I ended in a wimpy manner, seeing that I couldn’t distract my mother.
Her face was as one of stone as her reply came out hollow and hard,” It is time we bring up this mess to your father.” My head hung low as we trudged back home.
About half an hour later, I found myself shouting out my defense. “I know what I did was inexcusable, seeing as you just talked to me about this, but you can’t keep me from my dreams! And you certainly can’t keep me from dreaming! I mean, it’s not like its unrecognizable behavior; you can see I’m growing up, growing closer to flying from the nest! You can see that!”
“You’re having unbelievably uncalled for volume, young lady,” cautioned my mother.
“We know you want to be a soldier–” began my father.
“Right, a knight, but that’s for men, and you are a lady.” With that, my father closed the discussion.
At the crack of dawn, before the rooster’s crow could fill the air, I sneaked out of our cottage dressed in a pair of breeches, shirt, vest, cap, and boots: the perfect disguise for sword practice. I met up with the other boys—none knew my true identity—and trekked the rest of the way to the castle for the free training sessions. We were surprised by the announcement made by one of the squires that the best sword player would play in front of the King himself! Despite my inconsistent appearance at these sessions, I proved to be the best at footwork and blocking thrusts. (The footwork may be due to the intensive dancing lessons of my earlier years.) I worked as I had never worked before; I wanted to play in front of the king very badly. I wanted to be so good that I would have to go to war instead of being a noncombatant knight. My feeling of need to be a knight was an unexplainable obsession.
When the time came for the announcement of the best sword player, I held my breath along with everybody else. The wait was torturous, but when the announcement was finally made, I felt no better; the best sword player was a boy named Henrik, not me. My heart sank like a stone in water. But, it soon soared when his opponent was declared, me! We suited up and proceeded to march to the arena.
As we took in the King in his royal garments and the spacious sword playing field, I hoped that what I was doing wasn’t dishonorable, hiding my identity like this. However, there was no more time to dwell on the situation as the two of us got into our stances and were announced to the king. Soon, we began, and I was already glad we weren’t fighting to the death, only until one of us disarmed the other. We twisted, rolled, jumped, and thrust at the other. Until, using the technique I perfected in private, Henrik’s sword thudded to the ground, his eyes round with surprise. A light applause broke out, and I remembered I had an audience.
The King descended and came toward us. He congratulated me, and we shook hands. Taking note of my slim hand, he looked at me curiously, with a twinkle in his eye, as though he knew something. I struck up some courage and prepared to answer his curiosity. So, like a cat spitting out a hairball, I spilled my secret. To prove it true, I whisked off my cap, unfurling my long hair. There was a collective gasp and incredulous looks aimed my way.
“I can see your side of the story, young lady, and why you did it. I agree that everyone should be able to follow their dreams, but life is tough, so it is not always that nice. But, there is something I will tell you, you showed great skill today and even defeated the best sword player. You have the makings of a great knight, Lidia, and so, I will grant your dream. I dub you Knight Lidia, the lady knight.”
I felt a rush of tears race down my cheeks, tears of happiness and gratitude. But the King was not finished. “Everything comes with a price, Lidia, and so, even though knight wear is deductible, yours will be nondeductible. This is your punishment. Now, go; be a knight; go be the knight I know you can be: strong, loyal, wise, and most of all, brave. Do your duty and serve your country!”
The Dress Search
It all started one day when my daughter, Sam, asked if she and I could go looking for a dress for the prom. She said we would have to go that instant because the prom was the next day. She had told me nothing about it, but I told her I would be happy to take her. That’s what I thought. In the car, all the way to Dresses 101, all I heard was Sam yapping about how it was going to be a breeze finding a dress for her. She was way overconfident about finding her the perfect dress. I disagreed with her. Every dress we had found was unsuitable because Sam had a different body from other people. Finding a dress was going to be extremely unpleasant. When we got to the dress shop and had looked around a little, Sam pointed out a very pretty, but inappropriate dress.
“No way; that is totally unacceptable to wear that at a prom!” I had yelled.
Everyone turned around, staring at us. I saw Sam blush and then give me the evil stare. It was unbelievable how many people were there. I had guessed they were all looking at the last minute for a dress for the prom, too. After about a two hours searching, we had found no dress. Thirty minutes later, Sam picked up a dress that that was undeniably beautiful. It had fit perfectly on her. It was just the right size! It was a miracle, but then I looked at the price tag.
“Five hundred bucks,” I scream-whispered. “That is an unreasonable price for a regular dress.”
“Please, please, pretty please?” Sam begged, kneeling on her knees and making her hands form as if she were praying. “This is a prom; it only happens once a year in High School.”
I gave a huge sigh while shrugging. I didn’t want to pay that much for a dress she might not even wear again, but she was right. A prom is a once in a lifetime high school event.
“All right!” I had said, forcing the words to come out of my mouth. “But, you will have to do a lot of chores for me.”
“Thank you; thank you so much,” Sam gasped the words because she had been holding her breath while waiting for the answer.
Sam gave me a kiss on the cheek as we went to check out at the cash register. I asked the lady at the register if there was a discount on the dress. She said no and she said that the dress was nonreturnable. When I had gone to give the lady my credit card, I couldn’t let go. I seriously didn’t want to let go and spend five hundred dollars.
“Mom, let go,” Sam said through her gritted teeth.
“Ma’am, let go, please,” said the lady at the register.
I cringed as I let go and watched her slide my card through the machine. At least the dress was nontaxable, since we lived in Oregon. I had just spent five hundred dollars, but it was going to be worth it when I got to see Sam in her new dress.
Before she went to prom, I took many pictures of her and her date. The expensive of the dress was worth it. Sam looked beautiful. Those few hours shopping were not that pleasant, but I remembered I had done the same thing when I was younger. I had made my mom spend a lot of money on my prom dress also. As long as Sam was happy, I was, too.
The First Day of Middle School
August 18, 2011
“Let me tell you, right off the bat that inexcusable absences are unacceptable! We must be informed three days prior to the day of any child’s absence!” Ms. Whitney exclaimed.
It was the first day back to school, and Ms. Whitney was telling us about all the rules of the school. I was already spacing out. I mean, most people find the first day of school exciting! But when you are forced to sit in class and listen to every single thing the school will tolerate, and will not tolerate, you start feeling a little drowsy. I mean, wouldn’t you?! Oh, my gosh! I’m such a clunk! I almost forgot to introduce myself in this first page of a new diary! My name is Depender. I honestly can’t believe my mom named me that! Do I look like someone who depends on other people?! Speaking of names, guess what Ms. Whitney’s first name is? It’s Houston! I guess her parents thought it would be a hilarious joke or something, but they didn’t realize that the nurse was listening, and the nurse recorded Houston Whitney on the birth certificate! The story seemed unbelievable!
“Ms. Whitney? That absence notification rule seems very unreasonable. What if you got extremely sick? You can’t just go around giving everyone the disease!” Emilia, an overconfident girl, pointed out.
I rolled my eyes. I can already tell that she will point this out to every single teacher because she already pointed this out in the past two classes we’ve had together. Ms. Whitney looked baffled. She obviously wasn’t expecting this question. For a second, she had a look of dread on her face, but it quickly changed back to pleasant. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed, but Emilia was the only one not sleeping. I quickly noticed that all of my friends were almost unrecognizable.
“Emily! If that is the case, we must be informed before noon,” Ms. Whitney said coldly.
I also forgot to mention she never calls people by their real names. Instead she uses nicknames. Mine is Debbie. I looked over at Emilia. Everyone knew that she hated that nickname. Her lips were already curling into a scowl. Ms. Whitney saw that, and she ordered Emilia out of the class. Ms. Whitney was so loud that everyone who was sleeping became wide awake.
DIINGG!! The bell indicated that the period was over. I was expecting to learn all about irrational numbers in math class with Ms. Whitney, but instead we learned about the school rules? I swear, if I have to hear the school rules one more time, I am going to scream!
I quickly rush over to the next class. Hopefully, I’ll actually learn something this class! I think to myself. Suddenly, I stop where I am. Wait a sec! It’s lunch! Where the heck am I going? I mentally slap myself.
Once I arrived to the lunch area, I immediately found a spot to sit. My friend, Cherry, had a look of utter disappointment on her face. As I looked at her lunch, I realized that her food looked indigestible. I offered her some of my lunch, but she politely refused. Even so, when she wasn’t looking, I quickly plopped the muffin from my lunch on her lunch box. She didn’t say anything, but she quietly nibbled the muffin.
Since today was an early release day, we left for home right after lunch. My mom asked tons of questions, and after she was done talking, she threw out the batteries in my little sister’s toy car. Every day, I ask her why she doesn’t just buy rechargeable batteries, and every day, she says that that increases the electricity bill. She’s a big saver, but for some reason, she doesn’t seem to realize that buying new batteries each day is more expensive than increasing the electricity bill. Still, it is getting harder to pay the bill with my mom no longer working. She had a job, but she realized that it was unprofitable. So now she is a stay-at-home mom. It’s probably better, too. My sister, Amy, is only two years old, and I think that she enjoys being at home better than being at her daycare. Well, that’s all the news I have for today. Until next time, Diary, tah-tah!
A Bad Day at the Mall
I had the most dreadful day as my brother, my mom, and I stepped into the mall. We went to buy clothes, which was an unpleasant experience for me. The first store we went to was unacceptable to me because it was a little kid’s store. The first few shirts I tried on were unsuitable because they did not fit so we had to try on several different sizes. I found some shirts that I liked, but my mom said they were too expensive, and I felt like she was being unreasonable. I thought about switching the tags so the shirt I wanted was less expensive, but I knew that would be dishonorable. We agreed on some shirts and waited in line at the cashier’s counter. She was having trouble because the rechargeable batteries in her scanner were dead. We finally left the store, and I was starving so I pleaded with my mom to go to the Food Court so we could get a bite to eat.
While we waited for our food, I pulled out one of the shirts I had just purchased, and I realized that it was the wrong size. We received our food, and it was just unbelievable because the food was indigestible and totally gross. I was thinking that I would probably get an incurable disease from the food like on that show, “Monsters inside Me!”
After lunch we went back to the store to exchange my shirt for the right size and the sales lady said that it was nonreturnable. This day couldn’t get any worse! We went to the next store to buy pants, and I found a really cool pair of turquoise jeans. It was undeniable that they were the coolest jeans around! My mom had an irrational fear that I would get teased at school if I wore them. Then I looked over at the corner to see if there was anything else cool to wear when I noticed something strange on the gas pipeline that provided gas to the store. There was a little black container – same as all the other pipelines. The whole mall was wired with bombs! If they exploded on the gas pipes, the whole mall would blow up. I wasn’t even shocked anymore …this day was so bad I was expecting bad things to happen.
Meanwhile, my brother was being disagreeable with my mom about the pants she wanted him to wear. I told her about the pipelines, but she didn’t believe me. So I overconfidently walked through the mall to tell security. They came back to deactivate the bombs when the timer on the bombs said 2:54 was left until they exploded. Security quickly deactivated the bombs and thanked me for noticing the situation. This sure was an unprofitable trip to the mall, but at least I noticed the bombs. We finally found pants that my brother liked so we left the mall to go have a decent bite to eat. What a day!
The Indigestible Burger
There once was a burger that was indigestible. It hurt my stomach for days. It was unreasonable to think that my unpleasant brother could make a good burger. When he went to the grocery store, he overconfidently bought many disagreeable ingredients that were unsuitable and non–returnable. All of the items were nontaxable. I now feel like I have an incurable disease and also an undeniable anger towards my brother.
Some people call me bad, unbelievable, others, dishonorable, even bi-polar. I’m not totally sure how the name calling began. I guess it started back in the seventh grade when my mom kissed me goodbye. It was horrible, unexplainable, inexcusable, and definitely unacceptable. My stomach felt like I was eating steak that was indigestible. I was humiliated. I had no idea how I was going to go on with school and act like nothing had happened when everybody saw the kiss. The people were so unreasonable. When I begged them to forget what they saw, they ignored me. It happened so fast. Pretty soon I was unrecognizable. I changed, not just my clothes, but my attitude. I started picking fights with my old best friends, even my mom, but come on, that’s normal, right?
That’s how it was until I met this girl. She was perfect, wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Though people say I have a disagreeable attitude, she acts like she understands me. Her name is as sweet as honey bees, Lila. Lila is smart but not overconfidently smart or a know-it-all. She’s down to earth. When I met her, I suddenly thought this bad act and trying to be cool doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want to pretend my whole life. So I asked her out, and she said no with a smile on her face looking like she’s wanted to say that for a while now. But I wasn’t going to give up, not yet. A month has passed, and I’m still single. She’s the only girl in the whole school who won’t go out with me. I don’t get why. I tried writing notes to her in class, hanging out with her friends, and getting good grades. Nothing worked, until I finally gave up. She came up to me and asked me out. At first I had the urge to play hard to get, but after what I’ve been through, I don’t think it’s worth it. Since then I’ve been a better person and I’ve learned a good lesson: Don’t put on a play for other people; be yourself and you’ll enjoy life.
A Journey through Town
Each and every Saturday, I have to wake up at an unpleasant 7:00 a.m. I have to dress in my finest clothes and grab some money. I walk outside and wait for the stagecoach. The driver has an incurable disease, dizziness. So if we have to turn, we do it nice and slowly. As the stagecoach arrives, I pull out the money. Riding the coach is a nontaxable service so I am pretty happy about that! I soon climb aboard the stagecoach, and slowly and steadily off we go!
As I make my way into the market, I realize some things are unreasonably priced, like a headband for eight dollars. Luckily, the food is priced fairly, and that is what I came for. Most of the things here were indigestible, but I usually hang out in the little digestible corner of the market. I pick out the food I want, which is most of the oranges, and wander into the long checkout line. Then I hear a racket to the left of me and look over my shoulder. Two people are being disagreeable about who will get the last orange. So I quietly as a mouse scurry over there and put a couple oranges back. It is undeniable that I have taken most of the oranges because first of all, I smell like them, and second of all, I still have an armload of them. I make my way back to the now deserted checkout line and buy my things. It is then that I wait for the stagecoach again. It is the easiest way to travel home because I live twelve miles from the market. As the stagecoach arrives, I overconfidently take out my money again, and it is then that I realize I only have two dollars left. The market has a strict nonreturnable policy so I cannot get my money back. I talk to the driver, and he says he would take me home if he could, but he will be fired if he allows riders to travel for free. He offers to take me back after hours, but I need to get home sooner. I thank him and decide to walk home.
After I have walked about six miles and my feet are becoming cut and blistered by shoes that are unsuitable for the long trek, one of my old friends, Sadie, drives by and sees me. She tells me she will take me home because it is hot. She is generous, and she must pass my house in her travels anyway. Sadie announces she will take me home and I have NO choice. Boy did she make that clear! So I hop in and let the breezy air cool down my burning feet. When we arrive to my house, I try to give her my left-over two dollars, but she will not accept any payment. When I have the chance, I distract Sadie, write a quick note, and slip the money and the note into her pocket. That way she will have to keep my payment. I thank Sadie again, grab my groceries, and head inside. “Oh, goody,” I think sarcastically, “I just can’t wait until next Saturday!”