Thank god it was Friday. That's all I can say. School was killer, fifth grade was no breeze like some people make it out to be. Now, when I say this, I'm not trying to sound smug or ignorant, but…I'm pretty bright. Most of my friends are in lower classes then me, and therefore get less homework. For the record, being intelligent doesn't make school any easier, it bugs me how people misconstrue the subject like that. If you're quote on quote "gifted", you're actually given less of a break than the dim witted students. Sure, you can still do well, but it requires plenty of studying and hard work. The biggest stress for me is pre-algebra, a class that hardly anyone in Lark Creek takes until at least seventh grade. Math is my gifted subject, I suppose, which is unfortunate since I hate it with a burning passion. I'd been given loads of homework for the weekend and wanted to get it over with, so I lied down on my bed and started working, holding the worksheets against a history textbook. My dog sparks rested sound asleep on the corner of my bed.
As much as I wanted to get the math homework over with, I couldn't help but let my mind wonder as to who may have built that tree-house and bridge out in the woods. It was obviously someone who lived around here, but how long ago was it that they built those things? Now, me and Abby had walked past the tree-house to find the bridge, so we obviously lived on the other side of the creek than whoever had built the thing. Who did I know that lived on the opposite side of the woods than me? Man, they must have graduated by now. From the looks of sign on top of the bridge, nobody had been there in over ten years. Then again, rain could have easily washed that paint away.
The tree-house seemed really cool to me, and I was thinking that me and Abby could go back there tomorrow and fix it up, maybe get rid of all the drawings and trash inside and make it our own little place. It could be nice to spend some time alone with her, as opposed to school or home, where I'm teased by my sister about a relationship with her, or at school where we're other children are always socializing with us. As much as I enjoy spending time with my other friends, there's just something about Abby that none of them have, something that makes me really care about her. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I love her, although most of my friends and my family believe that to be true. If she likes me in that fashion, I'm not sure, and frankly, I don't care.
The clock hit ten before I could finish my math, and my mom had come in and told me to go to sleep. "Great, I'll have to spend time on this tomorrow", I thought to myself, but didn't bother arguing with her. The last thing I needed right now was to be screamed at.
My mom hadn't been the same since my father died. It was a shock to both of us, and I can't honestly say that my sister and I have gotten over yet, let alone my mom. I still remember that afternoon, and I remember me, her, and Katie sitting at the dinner table, biting into our steak, assuming that Goerge Niley had simply decided to stay late at the office. The most disturbing memory I have was the look on my mother's face when she picked up the phone and heard the news. Our lives changed that day.
Well, as much as I wanted to stay up and finish my homework, it had been a long day and some sleep sounded good right now. I shut the lamp off and rested my head on my pillow, making the best attempt I could to clear my thoughts and rest my mind.