Bedtime.
The phone is ringing again. The distant sound of footsteps and the rain clattering against the windows are making it hard for me to fall asleep. They said that I should at least try to sleep. I have tried. And now I won't try anymore. What's the point? I'm not even tired! It's unfair that the others are allowed to stay up as long as they want and I have to be in bed at eight o'clock every night. I'm a big boy, now. I should be allowed to stay awake as long as I want.
I can't tell them that, though. They'll just get mad and send me back to bed like they always do. They say that it's a rule. That every kid my age goes to bed at this time. Do they really expect me to believe that? The girl next door – the one with the metal on her teeth and the little golden spots on her cheeks – she is allowed to stay up on weekends. And she doesn't have to go to bed until ten o'clock. And she is only four months older than me! How is that fair? She's just a stupid girl!
The phone is still ringing. Can't they just pick up already? How do they expect me to try and sleep with that noise? Another ring. The fifteenth, so far. I've been counting them. My teacher says I'm good at counting. I think I'm just average. At least I'm better at it than the metal-mouthed girl next door. She doesn't even know how to devide, yet. But I suppose it's not just her. A lot of other kids my age don't know how to devide or multiply. That's why the teacher says I'm special. I like being special. It makes me feel smart.
Nineteen rings. And at twenty, it stops. The person calling really wants to talk. If I didn't have to go to bed so early, I would have picked up. Maybe the person has something really important to tell. Would it be bad if it starts ringing again and nobody answers it? Will the person feel ignored? Maybe it's someone who's in trouble! But why would they call here? It's not like anyone here could help.
The ringing is back again. If only I was allowed to get out of bed. I don't want to get in trouble, though, so it's best to just stay in bed. At least the rain stopped falling. I hate the rain. It makes everything wet and cold and it makes training very difficult. Teacher says that I just have to get used to it. But none of the other kids have to train when it's raining. They don't have to train at all! But I guess I have to, because I'm special.
Seventeen rings. Maybe it's one of my friends, calling to ask if they can come over to play. I bet none of them have to be in their beds right now. I bet they're still awake, watching television or playing outside now that it stopped raining. Ugh. I hate being treated like some weak child. I'm already nine! I'm old enough to decide on my own bedtime!
Stupid women think they can decide for me. Psh. They're too dumb. And weak. Last night, I heard one of them cry over a frog. A frog! If it were a cat or a dog I guess I could understand, but a frog? She had found it outside by the pond after it had been grabbed by a bird, and being herself – her very annoying self – she wrapped it in a handkerchief and took it inside to take care of it. It was already dying, though, so she couldn't do anything. I remember the way the frog was kicking its legs and opening its mouth in pain. If it were me, I would have put it out of its misery rather than watch it die slowly. She screamed at me for offering to kill it, though. She's just stupid, anyway.
The phone stopped ringing. I wonder if its father who keeps calling. I haven't seen him in months. The last time I did, he dropped me off here and left. I remember he told me to become a person he could be proud of. I wonder if that means he wasn't proud of me then. But I'll become stronger and special and I'll be sure to make him proud. Teacher is really working hard to do so.
The phone is ringing again. Father would never call this many times. Maybe it's someone else? Maybe it's mother, calling to see if I'm eating all of my vegetables and drinking all my milk. She did that a lot. Every time I was away, she would call to check up on me. I wonder if they have a phone in heaven? I can't really remember what she even looked like. I need to think about it a lot. Hmm. She didn't have metal on her teeth or golden spots on her cheeks like the girl next door. She didn't have red hair like one of the women here, or even brown like the lady at the store, either. I guess she just looked a lot like me. Or, no, I look a lot like her. Pale face, black hair and black eyes. Yep, that's right. I do look a lot like mother. And father. Even though father's hair is a bit gray.
The phone is ringing for the twentieth time, and then it stops. I don't really care about who's calling anymore. I'm just tired. Maybe I should go to sleep. I did stay up two hours. That's gonna show those stupid women. I just hope one of them picks up the phone if it's going to start ringing again. Though I'm pretty sure they won't. They're still mourning over that little frog, after all.
A/N: An idea that was... Drifting. It started out as a pretty different one but after much tweaking and tuning, this is what it's become. In case you still haven't figured it out, it's supposed to be Wufei's bedtime thoughts and musings. I'm unhappy about the ending, but it had to stop at some point.
I hope you liked it.
Reviews are welcome!