SUPER GUY AND THE ROCKET CART
CHAPTER #1: The Very Beginning
I looked out my window and breathed in the outside air. Almost immediately I pulled my head back inside, and began to cough. It had been like this for days now, the air was polluted, and it was destroying my weak lungs. Closing the window, I took one last look at the grey sky and all the people trudging along the dirty roads, and breathing in the horrid air. It made my stomach turn and my heart cry, all this destruction. I've been in my house since it began, hiding under my bed just in case the air above my head were to become polluted. My parents would bring me food, to which I would ask politely for them to leave it by my doorstep. Sometimes, I wouldn't even eat my food, for I was too sick to even crawl out from under my bed.
At those times, I would think of my life a year ago. Back then, I was something else, I wasn't the pathetic loser afraid of the air above my head who hid underneath the bed...hey, that rhymes! I should be a poet, or a writer, or a...okay, I'll stop now. I usually get really carried away sometimes, which would irritate my friends, who aren't my friends anymore. Anyway, I used to be strong, as strong as an emperor, or an Egyptian pharaoh. I used to have great adventures. There was this man once, and I saved his life. He didn't thank me much, though. I don't think he knew how. What I wouldn't give to see that man again.
But, my adventures are over. Instead of lying under the blue sky counting the clouds, I'm looking at the grey sky and the people who could be under it. They were even lucky, because they were free, unlike me; I'm like a boat lost at sea. I don't know how long my sails will hold out, in this weather...
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See what happens when you spend so much time alone? See what happens? You go crazy! Crazy! Crazy like a baboon at a tea party! Crazy like an umbrella under water! Crazy like a young person under the bed! I don't know how much more of this I can take, I need adventure, and before the air above my head gets me. I need another plan, a pair of wings, that man's red cape, and then I'll fly away!
There's only one setback. I can't escape my house.
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Let's see...plan, plan, plan... I could make a boat, a flying boat, out of clay, or out of wood, from the cellar. And rockets, from New Years day. I would look like a shooting star, so up far...I'd also need some glass, and fuel to keep my rocket-boat flying. Fuel...
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I looked out my window and breathed in the outside air. Almost immediately I pulled my head back inside, and began to cough. Sick air, it had been like this for weeks now, If only my plan had worked! All I need is fuel. I don't think I'll last much longer under my bed, without food. I've gotten worse. What I need is a breath of clean air. I need air, and fuel. Wait a minute. Polluted air and rockets, together like oil and fire... I could use my enemy to my advantage, like my father taught me, and the acidic air would power my rocket and take my boat to space. I can't tell my parents about my discovery, though. They'll think I'm crazy, but you don't think I'm crazy, do you?
CHAPTER #1: The Very Beginning
I looked out my window and breathed in the outside air. Almost immediately I pulled my head back inside, and began to cough. It had been like this for days now, the air was polluted, and it was destroying my weak lungs. Closing the window, I took one last look at the grey sky and all the people trudging along the dirty roads, and breathing in the horrid air. It made my stomach turn and my heart cry, all this destruction. I've been in my house since it began, hiding under my bed just in case the air above my head were to become polluted. My parents would bring me food, to which I would ask politely for them to leave it by my doorstep. Sometimes, I wouldn't even eat my food, for I was too sick to even crawl out from under my bed.
At those times, I would think of my life a year ago. Back then, I was something else, I wasn't the pathetic loser afraid of the air above my head who hid underneath the bed...hey, that rhymes! I should be a poet, or a writer, or a...okay, I'll stop now. I usually get really carried away sometimes, which would irritate my friends, who aren't my friends anymore. Anyway, I used to be strong, as strong as an emperor, or an Egyptian pharaoh. I used to have great adventures. There was this man once, and I saved his life. He didn't thank me much, though. I don't think he knew how. What I wouldn't give to see that man again.
But, my adventures are over. Instead of lying under the blue sky counting the clouds, I'm looking at the grey sky and the people who could be under it. They were even lucky, because they were free, unlike me; I'm like a boat lost at sea. I don't know how long my sails will hold out, in this weather...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------
See what happens when you spend so much time alone? See what happens? You go crazy! Crazy! Crazy like a baboon at a tea party! Crazy like an umbrella under water! Crazy like a young person under the bed! I don't know how much more of this I can take, I need adventure, and before the air above my head gets me. I need another plan, a pair of wings, that man's red cape, and then I'll fly away!
There's only one setback. I can't escape my house.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------
Let's see...plan, plan, plan... I could make a boat, a flying boat, out of clay, or out of wood, from the cellar. And rockets, from New Years day. I would look like a shooting star, so up far...I'd also need some glass, and fuel to keep my rocket-boat flying. Fuel...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------
I looked out my window and breathed in the outside air. Almost immediately I pulled my head back inside, and began to cough. Sick air, it had been like this for weeks now, If only my plan had worked! All I need is fuel. I don't think I'll last much longer under my bed, without food. I've gotten worse. What I need is a breath of clean air. I need air, and fuel. Wait a minute. Polluted air and rockets, together like oil and fire... I could use my enemy to my advantage, like my father taught me, and the acidic air would power my rocket and take my boat to space. I can't tell my parents about my discovery, though. They'll think I'm crazy, but you don't think I'm crazy, do you?