After the arguing stopped, Dad slept on the couch and Mum slouched up to their room. I finally fell asleep and dreamed. I dreamed of being in a fantasy wonderland, Miss Thomas didn’t exist and her blue cat ‘Mr Twinkles’ belonged to me. I had slaves take care of him and I had everything I had ever wanted. I was just having some tea when the whole palace shook, I dropped my tea and woke up to see my Mum shaking my shoulders.
“Wake up honey!” she whispered. I groaned glancing at my alarm clock, it was five o’clock and Mum was waking me up?
“What?” I yawned. My mum frowned and stroked back my hair.
“You don’t remember? We’ve got your cousins coming for the next week, we all have to do a big house clean up! So its an early start, this place is a tip,” my Mum said hopefully. I noticed the black bags under her eyes, I couldn’t let her down. So I got out of bed and dreaded the day to come.
My cousins are spoilt brats. End of story.
They fight and squeal and never stop complaining or asking for things. I don’t know how their parents live with them! Maybe thats why we get stuck with them EVERY single holidays! Anyway, their names are Claudia and Wilbur, they're twins, brother and sister. They have such a nice life style and rub it in our faces, to make it even worse they both do ballet. Mum always try’s to get me to do better so she can impress her sister, my Auntie Donna but I always seem to let Mum down. Claudia and Wilbur also both have a dog each. Both are perfectly groomed, vicious, stuck up and you’ll never guess what breed they are, Great Danes!
“Come on love, we’re nearly done!” my Mum said hopefully, but I could hear the groan in her voice. Suddenly there was a knock on the door, a couple of loud barks and some giggles. Everyone froze, even Mr Twinkles who had come in for extra food had stopped raiding the pantry. Mum slowly took a step forward and opened the door.
There was a bark, scrambling feet, a loud meow from Mr Twinkles and some deafening crashes.
I gulped, and stared at Claudia and Wilbur through angry eyes. They gave a satisfied smile in return and stomped into the hallway.
We spent hours cleaning the messed up house. In my mind the worst two things couldn’t be cleaned up. They moaned and groaned, saying it was my fault and their beloved little puppies could never do such a thing. They’re more like meat eating mongrels than puppies! After a painful dinner I decided to sleep outside, in my little pink tent I’d had when I was three. I’d stomped out, set up my embarrassing tent and tried to go to sleep.
It’s three in the morning, I’m freezing. There’s a scratching at my tent walls and a loud howl. I know it’s Claudia and Wilbur’s dogs, trying to freak me out. Trust me, they may be just dogs but they’re criminal master minds! It was almost like they were pretending to be were - wolves in a horror movie. Their shadows were suddenly huge, I whacked myself on my forehead, which was drenched with sweat.
“Snap out of it!” I yelled at myself. Suddenly there was a bark, I nearly jumped out of my skin as my tent zip flew open, and there standing before me was Wilbur’s big, wet great dane. He leapt onto my bed, covering me in mud and wet fur. He rolled over and licked my face with his big, sloppy, pink tongue before galloping out the tent door again leaving me with the disgusting smell of wet dog. I gave a loud scream of frustration and stomped out of my tent, splashing mud up like a pig would. I sunk to the ground and sat, in the pouring rain and wondered if this nightmare was EVER going to end! I looked up to the twins bedroom window to see two smiling faces in return. I gasped and mouthed something rude, they just laughed and shut their curtains like I wasn’t even there. They were going to pay for this, and I’d make sure they did.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Chapter One
“Mr Twinkles!” I called again, the fat cat finally came into view. He was panting, trying run towards me. A few minutes later when he finally reached my feet. I put down his food bowl, it was filled with delicious crumbed fish. You see I had been cooking for the last hour because Miss Thomas had insisted I cooked crumbed fish for her cat, Mr Twinkles. It was my job to feed him, brush him, even bathe him and clean out his litter box for three months, that was my punishment. How did I do this to myself? Yeah, I’ve got the lamest excuse, I was late for ballet class and I got my tutu muddy! Like who says that? Well this is how it all happened....
I raced down the street, my heart was beating fast. As my eyes scanned the path before me I glanced at my watch, 4:34. My heart skipped a beat, I was dead! Ballet class started at 4:25, they would of already gone through our routine and would be working on some new moves, without me! I must of been a funny sight, a twelve year old girl, running town the street, in the rain, wearing a pink tutu. I looked up, seeing the ballet studio in sight. I suddenly felt my foot slip, next thing I knew I was on the ground. My dress was now officially soaked....and muddy! I stood up, feeling my tutu’s sleeve rip. I groaned as a small bump started to form on the back of my head, I started jogging towards the studio.
As I burst through the door I realized, I shouldn’t of showed up after all, for in that couple of seconds every pair of eyes were glued on me. Chloe King stared at my tutu and laughed. I looked down at myself, my tutu wasn’t even pink anymore, it was disgusting brown colour with pinky brown splotches everywhere. My ballet teacher, Miss Thomas put her hands on her hips, other girls sniggered and whispered things to each other as Miss Thomas started lecturing me about being on time for class and keeping my appearance tidy. I tried to explain to her what happened but she wouldn’t listen. So I sat in the corner in my slushy shoes and waited for class to end. As everyone left Chloe and her friends walked over to me “Why the long face Miss Muddy!” Chloe laughed and strode off. I groaned and dreaded the next few hours ahead, Miss Thomas was going to make them torture.
Well, I ended up scrubbing the floor, wiping the mirrors and repainting one of the walls, how bazaar is that? Well its something you would expect from Miss Thomas, she is a very strange lady. Miss Thomas is single, and fifty four years old. She has a cat, named Mr Twinkles with blue fur, she always dyes his fur like you do with poodles! She feeds him human meals, actually bathes him everyday and she even made him his own bedroom in the house! She bought him a personalized litter box, with a scooper. Miss Thomas also wears blue mascara, black lip stick and weird flowery outfits that your great grandma would wear. The only reason I do ballet is because its a Mum thing, my Mum did it as a child, so I do it as a child. I like it of course but Miss Thomas just really ruins the sport, like how can a fifty four year old lady, with blue mascara and black lipstick look pretty in pink tutu. Yeah, and she tells me to keep my appearance tidy!
So here I find myself, feeding Mr Twinkles on a Saturday morning at six, for Miss Thomas insists he gets fed at certain times such as six for breakfast, ten thirty for morning tea, twelve for lunch, two thirty for snacks, and at four he finally has afternoon tea. Six thirty he has dinner and then from seven to nine thirty snacks are always available. So as you can see, I would spent most of my life at Miss Thomas’ house, looking after her fat cat. But no, just to make things even more satisfying for Miss Thomas she’s my neighbor, so I have to take care of Mr Twinkles on a regular basis, for when she goes on holiday in long weekends and school holidays. One school holidays she stayed at a hotel for ten whole days, you know why? Because she felt like it, that was my ten days gone. I had no time for the mall, or movies, even my friends hated coming over because I was stuck looking after a big, fat blue cat!
“Are you done feeding Mr Twinkles?” Miss Thomas yelled from the shower.
“Yes Miss Thomas! I’m leaving now!” I yelled back and I was out the door before she could even reply. I skipped out of her gate, across a few meters of pavement and down into my driveway. I didn’t use the front door, there was no point really. For right beside the doorway is a stairway, leading up to my bedroom. If you gave me the chance I’d rush up into my bedroom, lock the door and do my own thing. But no, I had to get the job over and done with. I grumpily walked over to the back door, which lead to the washing machine. Beside was a sink which I would soon be using, scrubbing my tutu so it was so clean it sparkled.
Now when I was cleaning my tutu I forgot all about the rip in its sleeve. I scrubbed over it, and guess what, it ripped some more. I couldn’t be bothered taking my tutu out, drying it, stitching it and washing it again till midnight. So while I scrubbed the hole got bigger and bigger, now instead of a rip I had a huge hole going all the way down to my waist. So I started to dry my brown tutu and get ready for stitching. It was getting really hot in the small washing room, I didn’t dare open the doors, my parents would hear me and come down, see my tutu and have an absolute fit! So I stripped off some of my clothes and sat in the corner of the room, in my underwear and singlet. I sighed even though I was by the one and only open window I was still just as hot.
After an hour I was finally getting somewhere, my tutu was half stitched and dry. The just at the most inappropriate time my Mum came into the washing room, she opened the door and saw my tutu. She screamed, I screamed and covered myself with the half stitched tutu. Then the lecture started, the money problems, what I’ve done to our bill. I just went off to my room in the end, and put my headphones on. Blocking out Mum and Dad’s fighting with new hit songs, they were pretty good I admit.
I raced down the street, my heart was beating fast. As my eyes scanned the path before me I glanced at my watch, 4:34. My heart skipped a beat, I was dead! Ballet class started at 4:25, they would of already gone through our routine and would be working on some new moves, without me! I must of been a funny sight, a twelve year old girl, running town the street, in the rain, wearing a pink tutu. I looked up, seeing the ballet studio in sight. I suddenly felt my foot slip, next thing I knew I was on the ground. My dress was now officially soaked....and muddy! I stood up, feeling my tutu’s sleeve rip. I groaned as a small bump started to form on the back of my head, I started jogging towards the studio.
As I burst through the door I realized, I shouldn’t of showed up after all, for in that couple of seconds every pair of eyes were glued on me. Chloe King stared at my tutu and laughed. I looked down at myself, my tutu wasn’t even pink anymore, it was disgusting brown colour with pinky brown splotches everywhere. My ballet teacher, Miss Thomas put her hands on her hips, other girls sniggered and whispered things to each other as Miss Thomas started lecturing me about being on time for class and keeping my appearance tidy. I tried to explain to her what happened but she wouldn’t listen. So I sat in the corner in my slushy shoes and waited for class to end. As everyone left Chloe and her friends walked over to me “Why the long face Miss Muddy!” Chloe laughed and strode off. I groaned and dreaded the next few hours ahead, Miss Thomas was going to make them torture.
Well, I ended up scrubbing the floor, wiping the mirrors and repainting one of the walls, how bazaar is that? Well its something you would expect from Miss Thomas, she is a very strange lady. Miss Thomas is single, and fifty four years old. She has a cat, named Mr Twinkles with blue fur, she always dyes his fur like you do with poodles! She feeds him human meals, actually bathes him everyday and she even made him his own bedroom in the house! She bought him a personalized litter box, with a scooper. Miss Thomas also wears blue mascara, black lip stick and weird flowery outfits that your great grandma would wear. The only reason I do ballet is because its a Mum thing, my Mum did it as a child, so I do it as a child. I like it of course but Miss Thomas just really ruins the sport, like how can a fifty four year old lady, with blue mascara and black lipstick look pretty in pink tutu. Yeah, and she tells me to keep my appearance tidy!
So here I find myself, feeding Mr Twinkles on a Saturday morning at six, for Miss Thomas insists he gets fed at certain times such as six for breakfast, ten thirty for morning tea, twelve for lunch, two thirty for snacks, and at four he finally has afternoon tea. Six thirty he has dinner and then from seven to nine thirty snacks are always available. So as you can see, I would spent most of my life at Miss Thomas’ house, looking after her fat cat. But no, just to make things even more satisfying for Miss Thomas she’s my neighbor, so I have to take care of Mr Twinkles on a regular basis, for when she goes on holiday in long weekends and school holidays. One school holidays she stayed at a hotel for ten whole days, you know why? Because she felt like it, that was my ten days gone. I had no time for the mall, or movies, even my friends hated coming over because I was stuck looking after a big, fat blue cat!
“Are you done feeding Mr Twinkles?” Miss Thomas yelled from the shower.
“Yes Miss Thomas! I’m leaving now!” I yelled back and I was out the door before she could even reply. I skipped out of her gate, across a few meters of pavement and down into my driveway. I didn’t use the front door, there was no point really. For right beside the doorway is a stairway, leading up to my bedroom. If you gave me the chance I’d rush up into my bedroom, lock the door and do my own thing. But no, I had to get the job over and done with. I grumpily walked over to the back door, which lead to the washing machine. Beside was a sink which I would soon be using, scrubbing my tutu so it was so clean it sparkled.
Now when I was cleaning my tutu I forgot all about the rip in its sleeve. I scrubbed over it, and guess what, it ripped some more. I couldn’t be bothered taking my tutu out, drying it, stitching it and washing it again till midnight. So while I scrubbed the hole got bigger and bigger, now instead of a rip I had a huge hole going all the way down to my waist. So I started to dry my brown tutu and get ready for stitching. It was getting really hot in the small washing room, I didn’t dare open the doors, my parents would hear me and come down, see my tutu and have an absolute fit! So I stripped off some of my clothes and sat in the corner of the room, in my underwear and singlet. I sighed even though I was by the one and only open window I was still just as hot.
After an hour I was finally getting somewhere, my tutu was half stitched and dry. The just at the most inappropriate time my Mum came into the washing room, she opened the door and saw my tutu. She screamed, I screamed and covered myself with the half stitched tutu. Then the lecture started, the money problems, what I’ve done to our bill. I just went off to my room in the end, and put my headphones on. Blocking out Mum and Dad’s fighting with new hit songs, they were pretty good I admit.
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