May 8th, 2001. I was playing in the treehouse. My mom and dad were at our wooden picnic table drinking mint lemonade and talking. My glass was already empty.
I had no idea what they were talking about. Whenever I asked, they would just brush me off.
As I was in my treehouse, I breathed in deeply. This place, it was my safe zone. My place of harmony. My safe haven. My coordinates zero zero zero zero (x,y,z,t).
No matter what I did though, my parents wouldn't budge.
So I just hung out in my treehouse. The early summer wind blew. The sun was slightly beating down. It wasn't extemely hot, but hot enough for Mom to prepare her only-famous-in-our-family mint lemonade.
As I stared out of the treehouse into the world beyond, I observed things just to think about them.
Two blocks over, there was a party it seemed. Balloons, streamers, and whatnot. They (meaning the balloons) all had the number four, presumably either an anniversary or a birthday party.
I saw the birch trees that dotted the sidewalk on my street swaying in the wind. They seemed to dance as the wind blustered through their branches and leaves.
But that was the least of my worries.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The car ride to my aunt's took twenty minutes. The longest twenty minutes of my entire life (even factoring in doctor's waiting rooms). I thought I was staying for two weeks (or fourteen days).
I was there for fourteen years.
And those were some of the best fourteen years of my life.
Counting for the actual three years beforehand, that's my whole life!
But, sadly, those fourteen years that were the best fourteen years of my life was only about one fourth of each day.
So, those fourteen years transfers to about three and a half years.
Which, thanks to my rotting brain, I'm here to inform you that three and a half years is abut the elapsed time that the average human life span's average amount of time is spent on the toilet.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe It'll Never Happen
Teen FictionJames Ignis has the worst luck in the world. His parents died when he was only four years old and he's been living with his single aunt who has to take 3 jobs to maintain his exsistence. He has been depressed his whole life. He has barely, if any, f...
