"Mom hurry up, or else we'll be late for the birthday party!" I shouted up the stairs.
"I'm coming, hold your horses, geez!" my mom replied.
Strolling out of our two story house, we were met by the burning sun and a cold gentle breeze. We decided to walk to the location of the party, as it was nearby. As we stopped at an intersection waiting for the traffic lights to turn green, I saw something in my peripheral view. Something or someone was following us. Ignoring it, we crossed the noisy street. Arriving to the party, I immediately ran off to play in the sandbox. Planning to build Mt. Everest, I started scooping up sand with my bare but soft hands. I began with the base...
"Shouta, it's time to eat, come here!" shouted my mom.
Picking myself up from the sandbox, I headed towards my mom. Seeing food already waiting for me at the picnic table, I reached out to grab the brat on my plastic party plate. However, midway through, familiar hands intercepted mine, and with it came a screaming voice.
"Shouta, go wash your hands before you eat!" exclaimed my mom.
Sighing, I sprinted to the bathroom and back, and finally I was able to embrace the juicy tanginess of the brat.
"Now, go play with the others since you're done eating," said my mom, looking over at my desolate plate.
Getting up from the table and feeling excited, I went to go see what everyone was playing. As I continued to look around, I saw one particular sport stand out to me; it was something called soccer. Sitting down near the field, eventually a person playing noticed me and invited me to play with them (something about "the more the merrier".) I agreed, and soon I found myself in the center of the field. Watching my teammates, I saw them passing the ball back and forth. Eventually, as they approached me, I started running towards the opponent's goal. My teammate noticing this, kicked the ball towards me. Picking up my speed, I successfully intercepted the ball. Now in front of the goal, I swung my feet forward with all my strength and the ball complied by moving into the goal, I had scored a point. With this, the score was now 3 - 5. Next, after some more back and forth passing, my teammate once again passed the ball towards me. Stretching out my strides, I moved toward the ball, but I missed the pass and it flew onto the street. Ignoring my surroundings, I chased after the ball to make up for my failure. However, as I ran into the street, I noticed a bluish-black car in the corner of my eye, just a few yards away from me.
BEEEEEEEEEEEP!
Beep, beep, beep, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!
Reaching my hand out, I hit the stop button on my alarm clock and in return, it responded with a solid clunk. Pulling my arm away, I reached and touched my forehead, the location of my scar, still there and textured from 11 years ago.
(Sigh)
Next Time: Chapter 2; Kiyoshi Kaemon
