Final Draft/ The Tears Keep Coming/W.A. #2
By: Emma Baker
-10/8/03 per. 2. English I sit on my bed in the comfort of my warm bedroom where the only thing keeping the darkness from engulfing me is the blue light from my fish tank. My clock on my nightstand is blinking in green 2:07 in the morning. I stare into the dark obis of my silent bedroom.
A car pulls up in the driveway out of my dark, wet window. Must be mom; dad doesn't get home till about 5:45. I wonder if I should tell her. I decide not to in fear of scaring her.
The door down the hall opens quietly, but shut with a slam. I jump a little. You would think after doing this in 6th and 7th, I wouldn't get jumpy in 8th. I guess it's what I was about to do today while walking home from the bus stop that is making me jumpy.
I can hear my mom checking on my little sister, Sophie. My door o0pens, but no light came from the hall. I lay motionless on my bed underneath my silver comforter, not daring to blink. My mom leaves the door open but walks silently away.
Now, she's in the kitchen probably making a sandwich. The light that just peeks past the corner down the hall shuts off.
I still stare into the black nothingness of my bedroom wall. I don't know what to think. What I was about to do was the worst thing I could ever do in my 13 years of life.
I fall asleep leaning against my purple, padded headboard.
The rain fell down from the heavens above. The morning was gray and dark. I'm too scared to leave the house, but my flute duties call. I got little sleep the night before. My eyes droop, and my hair is a mess.
I step out on to the porch at about 6:23. The two vehicles in the driveway looked so far away to me. I step off the porch into the heavy rain. The rain is nice, but I wish fall would end, and snow would begin to filter down from the cloudy, dark above. Of coarse, Marching Band season will be over.
Inside the small, blue escort, it was warm and safe. My step-dad hadn't turned off the engine, since he got home.
Outside, it was a bone chilling 43 degrees. Seth my pain giving big brother, got in the front seat.
"Hey shrimp. How's it goin'?"
He threw his saxophone case at me. I t hit me in the shoulder blade and fell to the seat next to me. I flinch at the pain just inflicted upon me.
"All right! What's wrong?" He asks in response to me not yelling at him.
"Nothing1 You went off to your friend's house, and I tried to do something I shouldn't! I'm just peachy!" I think to myself. I decide against telling Seth what happened. He would definitely tell one of our parenting figures.
I see outside my window my 11-year-old sister, Sophie, running around on the flooded, brown grass in the heavily falling rain. Her straight, brown, soak-to-the-bone hair flowing in the fast moving wind is nothing compared to my long, curly, red, dry, frizzy, rat's nest I call hair.
My step-dad, Zed, strolled off the porch and began screaming at Sophie, who had accidentally splashed him with water. I couldn't hear what he was yelling. Sophie began walking toward the car with a grin on her face. She didn't like Zed. She wished she never met him. Frankly, I don't like him either. He's nice in all, but there's something about him.
Sophie jumps into the car and smiles at me. I look at her with a vacant expression.
"What's wrong?" She whispers into my ear. Her breathe against my ear as she spoke was warm enough to make me flinch. I stare at her with my dark, nearly black eyes.
The car ride seemed to take a lifetime. We were late for band.
When we arrived, the band was already marching and playing the theme song to Lord of the Rings. Seth had put his saxophone together on the long ride. Sophie had started warming up for her breath taking solo in the theme song to Star Trek. I, on the other hand, didn't start putting my flute together. The bright, florescent light turned on as Seth jumped out of the still moving car and ran to his marching spot next to his junior buddies.
"Well, get marching before your grade is any lower than it is now!"
I just glare at Zed for saying that. Sophie's blue eyes go from Zed to me.
The light goes on again, but this time Sophie and I just sit there.
I turn my stare to Sophie, whose leg is hanging out the door. I blink twice with a "go on; this is between me and him" expression on my face. She stays put.
I throw my arms in the air angrily and get out.
"Don't bother picking my up after school! I'll take the bus again!"
I violently grab my flute case. Sophie threw Zed then me bad looks. The doors slam shut.
Dust picks up as Zed turns the corner violently, swirling everywhere.
I look at Sophie who was grinning ear to ear at the sight she was seeing. Her happiness began to over whelm her, and she looked like an angel with soft, white skin. She looked as though she were glowing.
"Sophie, Zoey. Get to where you need to be." The low, scratchy voice came from high above the ground. My eyes scanned up the tower from where the percussion players played to the tall, skinny women conducting at the top. She wore a long sleeved wind jacket that was half white and blue. She was just out of distant that I couldn't read what the words on the left side of the jacket said, but since I had one myself I knew what it said.
The song ended along with the marching. The next song started, the theme to Star Trek, and the form went from a circle to a space ship.
There was a hole were my friend, Sammy, was supposed to be marching. I know where she is. She's probably dead by now. Her body probably has a knife through it. She told me the day before she was going to commit suicide.
My sister interrupts my thoughts by beginning to sing. She has a sweet, low voice. She's the lucky one in the family: great looks, beautiful voice, and wonderful personality. Fro someone that young, she's pretty mature.
"Zoey, please get into the marching form?" The Drum major's voice once again echoed over the intercom while waving her hands in the air and holding the tempo for the band students.
I take a deep breath and bend over. After putting my flute together, I threw my case and ran to the empty spot in between 3 saxophones and a tuba player. They let me in the clump while still keeping in step. The expected change in direction, and the splitting of my clump and the ship didn't give me much time to get my thought organized. The form of the tired band members was now the ship flying away from my clump.
The song was finally over, and the band had gone to the back of the field. They sat there for about 10 minutes before getting their stuff together and getting to class 2.
The wind rustled the trees and the wind jackets. I begin to walk to the middle school just down the asphalt road and around the corner past the high school.
To Be Continued.
By: Emma Baker
-10/8/03 per. 2. English I sit on my bed in the comfort of my warm bedroom where the only thing keeping the darkness from engulfing me is the blue light from my fish tank. My clock on my nightstand is blinking in green 2:07 in the morning. I stare into the dark obis of my silent bedroom.
A car pulls up in the driveway out of my dark, wet window. Must be mom; dad doesn't get home till about 5:45. I wonder if I should tell her. I decide not to in fear of scaring her.
The door down the hall opens quietly, but shut with a slam. I jump a little. You would think after doing this in 6th and 7th, I wouldn't get jumpy in 8th. I guess it's what I was about to do today while walking home from the bus stop that is making me jumpy.
I can hear my mom checking on my little sister, Sophie. My door o0pens, but no light came from the hall. I lay motionless on my bed underneath my silver comforter, not daring to blink. My mom leaves the door open but walks silently away.
Now, she's in the kitchen probably making a sandwich. The light that just peeks past the corner down the hall shuts off.
I still stare into the black nothingness of my bedroom wall. I don't know what to think. What I was about to do was the worst thing I could ever do in my 13 years of life.
I fall asleep leaning against my purple, padded headboard.
The rain fell down from the heavens above. The morning was gray and dark. I'm too scared to leave the house, but my flute duties call. I got little sleep the night before. My eyes droop, and my hair is a mess.
I step out on to the porch at about 6:23. The two vehicles in the driveway looked so far away to me. I step off the porch into the heavy rain. The rain is nice, but I wish fall would end, and snow would begin to filter down from the cloudy, dark above. Of coarse, Marching Band season will be over.
Inside the small, blue escort, it was warm and safe. My step-dad hadn't turned off the engine, since he got home.
Outside, it was a bone chilling 43 degrees. Seth my pain giving big brother, got in the front seat.
"Hey shrimp. How's it goin'?"
He threw his saxophone case at me. I t hit me in the shoulder blade and fell to the seat next to me. I flinch at the pain just inflicted upon me.
"All right! What's wrong?" He asks in response to me not yelling at him.
"Nothing1 You went off to your friend's house, and I tried to do something I shouldn't! I'm just peachy!" I think to myself. I decide against telling Seth what happened. He would definitely tell one of our parenting figures.
I see outside my window my 11-year-old sister, Sophie, running around on the flooded, brown grass in the heavily falling rain. Her straight, brown, soak-to-the-bone hair flowing in the fast moving wind is nothing compared to my long, curly, red, dry, frizzy, rat's nest I call hair.
My step-dad, Zed, strolled off the porch and began screaming at Sophie, who had accidentally splashed him with water. I couldn't hear what he was yelling. Sophie began walking toward the car with a grin on her face. She didn't like Zed. She wished she never met him. Frankly, I don't like him either. He's nice in all, but there's something about him.
Sophie jumps into the car and smiles at me. I look at her with a vacant expression.
"What's wrong?" She whispers into my ear. Her breathe against my ear as she spoke was warm enough to make me flinch. I stare at her with my dark, nearly black eyes.
The car ride seemed to take a lifetime. We were late for band.
When we arrived, the band was already marching and playing the theme song to Lord of the Rings. Seth had put his saxophone together on the long ride. Sophie had started warming up for her breath taking solo in the theme song to Star Trek. I, on the other hand, didn't start putting my flute together. The bright, florescent light turned on as Seth jumped out of the still moving car and ran to his marching spot next to his junior buddies.
"Well, get marching before your grade is any lower than it is now!"
I just glare at Zed for saying that. Sophie's blue eyes go from Zed to me.
The light goes on again, but this time Sophie and I just sit there.
I turn my stare to Sophie, whose leg is hanging out the door. I blink twice with a "go on; this is between me and him" expression on my face. She stays put.
I throw my arms in the air angrily and get out.
"Don't bother picking my up after school! I'll take the bus again!"
I violently grab my flute case. Sophie threw Zed then me bad looks. The doors slam shut.
Dust picks up as Zed turns the corner violently, swirling everywhere.
I look at Sophie who was grinning ear to ear at the sight she was seeing. Her happiness began to over whelm her, and she looked like an angel with soft, white skin. She looked as though she were glowing.
"Sophie, Zoey. Get to where you need to be." The low, scratchy voice came from high above the ground. My eyes scanned up the tower from where the percussion players played to the tall, skinny women conducting at the top. She wore a long sleeved wind jacket that was half white and blue. She was just out of distant that I couldn't read what the words on the left side of the jacket said, but since I had one myself I knew what it said.
The song ended along with the marching. The next song started, the theme to Star Trek, and the form went from a circle to a space ship.
There was a hole were my friend, Sammy, was supposed to be marching. I know where she is. She's probably dead by now. Her body probably has a knife through it. She told me the day before she was going to commit suicide.
My sister interrupts my thoughts by beginning to sing. She has a sweet, low voice. She's the lucky one in the family: great looks, beautiful voice, and wonderful personality. Fro someone that young, she's pretty mature.
"Zoey, please get into the marching form?" The Drum major's voice once again echoed over the intercom while waving her hands in the air and holding the tempo for the band students.
I take a deep breath and bend over. After putting my flute together, I threw my case and ran to the empty spot in between 3 saxophones and a tuba player. They let me in the clump while still keeping in step. The expected change in direction, and the splitting of my clump and the ship didn't give me much time to get my thought organized. The form of the tired band members was now the ship flying away from my clump.
The song was finally over, and the band had gone to the back of the field. They sat there for about 10 minutes before getting their stuff together and getting to class 2.
The wind rustled the trees and the wind jackets. I begin to walk to the middle school just down the asphalt road and around the corner past the high school.
To Be Continued.