I think I'm obsessed with five year olds.
Lync: What makes you say that?
Dream: Every. Single. Time.
Lync: ?
Yumeí: She means that every time she writes a backstory, her first chapter describes the person as a five-year old.
Ren: Is there a reason why?
Dream: Well-Wait, when did you get here?!
Ren: That is a very good question.
Yumeí: *to Lync* I guess we'll never know.
Lync: Dang it.
Dream: Plz keep in mind that I only own plot and OC's.
Lync walked through the front doors of his home, his schoolbag over his shoulder. He was a little nervous about meeting with his parents today; they could be scary at times.
Lync managed to get inside, kick off his shoes, and get a drink of water by the time his mother found him.
"Welcome home, Lync," she said softly. "How did school go today?"
Lync cringed. It was always terrifying to tell his mother what happened at school because he wasn't sure what she wanted from him. It made him nervous. He absentmindedly played with a piece of string as he slowly answered.
"It was...good. We got to do art today. And I wrote a poem that the teacher put a sticker on."
His mother nodded, smiling. Lync relaxed. She wasn't mad.
"Well, why don't you go upstairs and do your homework?" His mother suggested. Lync nodded in agreement and began to lug his backpack up the stairs. He entered his room, opened his backpack, and puled out the folder of his assignments.
As he sat at his desk, he wondered if other kids his age did this. He had been enrolled to an advanced placement school, where the work seemed harder. His mother and father wanted him to be the best in class, but he'd been keeping a big secret: out of the twenty children in his class, he was right in the bottom group.
By ordinary school standards, Lync was very smart. But when he was compared with other highly learned children, he was below the average in everything but writing. His occasional wit made him a good poet, but the only other talent he had was at art and hand crafts.
If his parents knew...Lync shuddered at the very thought. They would be mad. Very mad.
It was a good thing that grades and tests wouldn't be administrated until the next semester. By then, he was sure that he would catch up with his peers.
Lync began to write out his math on a sheet of paper and began to work out the calculations. Three hours later, he was finished.
Yumeí: That is just cruel. I thought I had it bad with Grandpa, but...GEEZ!
Volt: *to Lync* I feel your pain.
Shadow: Me too. Sort of.
Dream: Hmmm. Well, who wants to help me cook dinner?
Shadow: Not it.
Mylene: I'm out.
Volt: Not gonna happen.
Yumeí: I'll do it!
Dream: Okay! :) *looks at reader* Review please.
Yumeí: *from the kitchen* Are we making pasta?