Waiting

I was inspired and I wrote this.

 

                    My eyes opened. A dark room was revealed as my head slowly cleared of the sleepy fog. My bones creaked like an over-used door as I lifted my lump of a body out of bed. There wasn't much in my room. Only blue wallpaper and a family portrait. For a normal teen, this was heck. But for me, it was a type of safe home within a home. On my night stand sat a copy of this year’s school yearbook. I was always in the “honor roll students” photo. That photo seemed to point put every teen that was considered a nerd. Of course, the people that called us nerds were the ones that would be a common example of stupid. They always think what they say is the truth and seem to have a vocabulary limited to the words foo, like, and dawg. But the weekend saved me from the cruelties of that bunch. Those two were heaven on a calendar. I slowly walked to the bathroom, tripping on every other piece of clothing that happened to cross my path, just to wash my face off. Getting to the sink felt like a journey to me. A ten foot, trash ridden, pathetic journey but a journey all the same. I splashed water on my face until my brain cells finally started working again.  I looked in the mirror and saw a face. Specifically, my face. There was nothing unusual about it. I hated my face, it was so boring. Just blue eyes and a few freckles here and there. I wanted to swat it away and demand a refund. Or at least a new face. Maybe one that caught the attention of someone. Anyone. But no. I was stuck with the one pre-attached to my  face. I slowly walked, more like limped, over to the couch to watch some mind numbing television. Mom said that I spent one quarter of my life on that couch. And, well it was somewhat true. For one week in summer, I counted how many hours I was on the couch. It was an average of 6 hours a day. That is one quarter of a day. There are 168 hours in a week. And I was watching TV for 42 hours a week. That comes out as exactly one fourth. Dear god, I’m pathetic. Those types of statements are the ones you don’t want to prove. I slowly rested my still sleepy bones on the comfortable leather couch. I felt my body slowly sink in like one of those Temperpedic beds. I reached for the remote but stopped. Like some invisible shield seemed to hold me back. I had to continue my title! But for some reason, I had to do something. This more important then TV. Wow… Something more important then TV… A fire, a shooting, or a thief, but besides that, nothing was more important then TV. I got up, going against every nerve in my body. I slowly trudged down the hallway to the door. My body was screaming to go back to the couch, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there. Waiting. What was I waiting for? Obviously it was important. So I waited. I stared at the wooden door as if it was about to open or surprise me in a way. My feet slowly gave way to complete numbness. Then my legs. It was like my body would not wait with me so it was shutting down. It then went completely numb. It gave me that feeling like when your girlfriend kisses you for the first time or when you discover that you put your pants on backwards and then class starts. Completely numb. I lost the time, but then again I never had it in the first place. I knew I woke up early because of the house. It was totally silent. Five is when my dad’s radio turns on to wake him for work so I must have been about four. I heard a small voice turn on in the far corner of the house. The radio. Five o’clock. Geez that’s early. But I continued to wait. I later realized that my dad’s radio turned on late. Meaning that he had to rush out to get to work on time. That’s why he just kissed me on the forehead then left, without ever wondering why I was just standing there. Fate made it happen, I know it. One person left but I continued to wait for that, well what ever it was, to get here. Hours past with me standing. Waiting.

         “Honey, time for breakfast!” my mom shouted from upstairs.

Breakfast. Great. I guess whatever I was waiting for, would have to wait.

Author's Note

Just an inspired story nothing serious. I do want to hear your ideas though.

Reviews

[CJ]

this is such a wonderfully written story! it is so descriptive!!! i love it.

before writerscafe, did you ever write poems or stories? if so, why didn't you ever show me!! your writing is amazing and i love every bit of it!!! so if you ever write anything else, especially a song, you better show it to me.

::Casey::

[CJ]

I was re-reading some older writings from a couple people. I always liked this one. It just seemed to completely connect with me, and how I feel like a confused zombie some mornings. Maybe that's not what you wanted, but that's what I got from it. I love the humor, and personable quality of your writing. I'm jealous. Everything I write is sad and lacks humor or any feeling that is enjoyable in any way. But you're good. I hope you get an email from this so it doesn't go unnoticed. But I do still exist, so you know. Boarding school hasn't made me disappear. Sorry for potentially bugging you, but I wanted to get in touch, and last time I checked, we both loved writing. I miss you and hope life is going well. Text/email/call/message me in any form.

[sabrina]

OOOOH!! i like it! you put humor into it and it also had a strange little mystery. Good Job! ^_^

[Justin Tobey]

This is wonderful! You can tell when a person is a good writer when a story about sitting around and waiting draws you in like this one does to me. Even though it's a story about something that we all do almost every day, your writing style is good enough that I'm interested in what else you have to say. Good job! :D