www.whyville.net Nov 4, 2012 Weekly Issue

Guest Writer

The Apparition: Prologue

Users' Rating
Rate this article

I walk slowly into the white, wooden gates of our new house. I looked up. The two stories of brick house stood before me. The white door, wide open, inviting us into its comforting palace. I breathe in everything. The climate was colder than what I was used to. We moved from Florida to Ohio for my dad's work. I will not miss my old home. People were mean to me. People hated my guts for no reason. Was it because I was unsociable? Was it because I didn't like most of the cliques? I push the unpromising past away from my thoughts. This will be my redemption; a new beginning. "Emily, will you help me with the couch?" Mom asks. "Sure thing!" I reply.

I go to her and lift the other end of the cream-colored leather sofa. we go through the door, which opened into a golden beige family room with wooden floor. We set it down at an angle where it'd be facing the flat screen television. Dad walks in with the matching recliner. "Hey, Emily!" He says. "Yeah, Dad?" I ask. "Go upstairs and pick your room," He smiles. "Sweet!" I exclaim. My brother, Luke, rushes in, "No fair! Why does she get the first pick?" "Well, she's doing the most work, and she's a girl," Dad says with a smirk. It was true. I was a Junior in high school, and little Kyle was a mere eighth grader in middle school. "What a joke," Kyle mumbles. "What was that?" Dad asks. "Oh. Nothing!" Kyle quickly responds. "Go get your suitcase to claim the selected room, Emily." Dad says.

I go out to get a few of my suitcases and go back through the front door, and take a right, leading me to carpeted steps. I run up the steps, excited to see which room was the best. The master bedroom was already picked by mom and dad. There were three bedrooms left to pick from. I walk from door to door, picking the room with best quality. I walk past the second door, which was on the other side of the master bedroom. It looked promising. It has beige paint, a lot of space, a walk-in closet, my own bathroom, and even a little balcony. "This is perfect," I whisper to myself. I look at the third room just to check to see. The first room was a definite 'no' because it seems smaller and dull. The third room is decent, but not as good as the second. I rush back to the second room, drop my suitcases, claiming it. Luke comes to see which one I have chosen. "No fair!" He exclaims, "You would choose the best bedroom!" "Well, obviously!" I reply, "I would because I get the first pick." Kyle walks by the other two rooms. He picks the room diagonal to me, the final room. He drops his belongings and we head downstairs.

The living room was half complete. The couches and rugs have been placed. Mom and Dad are bringing in a coffee table. Luke and I walk out of the way of our parents. the walk in the center of the family room and set it down. "What about the TV?" Luke asks. "Chill, son," Dad says, "I'll get it later. I have to hook it up to everything first. I'll mess with electronics after we move everything in. Both of you get all of your boxes out of the truck and start working on your rooms." We walk out to the "Penske" truck. "Can you help me with my bed items?" I ask Luke. "If you help me with mine afterwards," He replies. "I'll consider that a deal," I say. We get the bed frames and carry them upstairs into my room. Then we take the box springs. After that we get the mattress. Then we got to the sheets and covers. After my bed is in order, we get to Luke's bed. Both of our beds take about an hour and a half to set up. Then we agreed to help each other with each others' dressers. After we get that situated, we start working by ourselves. I grab my clothes and put them up. I set a mirror in between my closet and my dresser. I put my night stand right by my bed, on my right. Then I put my desk beside the sliding glass door to the right of my bed. I drape my blue curtains in front of the sliding glass doors. I stand back. "Perfect," I whisper to myself with a smile.

We go downstairs to see how things were. Everything was complete, except for the television. Mom was setting up the kitchen and Dad was upstairs arranging the bedroom on a diagram that both parents could agree on. We go into the kitchen, which was directly next to the family room. It was a light yellow with white counter tops and cabinets. "What do you want me to do?" Luke asks. "You can go work on the back yard," She replies. "What about me?" I ask. "Hmmm," She begins, "I want you to help Luke." "Yes ma'am," I reply. I go past an empty room, which I assume will be one of my parents' work spaces. The door out to the back yard is white, matching the counter tops and the cabinets.

"There's a two-seat swing that you can get, Luke," I say, "And I'll get a couple of the seats that you hang up on tree branches. I look up at the trees. Many of them are doable for seats. We get our chairs and set things up. "I'll get the table," I say. "Then I'll get the grill," Luke says. I'm not the strongest girl, but I manage to get around. I lift the table on a platform with a handle and wheels. I wheel it to the back yard, through the side of the house. I center it right in front of the swing. "What do we do about the shed?" Luke asks. "Let Mom or Dad deal with that," I reply. All of the setting up ad taken over two hours! It's already getting dark. "Wow, time flies when you're working!" Luke exclaims. "Yeah, it does I guess. Let's go see if anyone needs our help," I say. "Do we have to? I'm just so tired!" Luke says. "Quit your whining, midget!" I tell him. "I'm not a midget!" I snarls. "You are to me," I tell him. "I'm 5'6 in eighth grade!" he exclaims, "I can't help that you're taller!" "Still a midget to me," I tell him with a quiet snicker, "Come on, let's go."

We go back into the kitchen. "Mom?" I call out. "I'm right here!" she replies, "I'm in the room by the kitchen." We walk over. "What are you making this room?" I ask. "My work area," she replies. I had guessed correctly. "Do you need our help?" I ask. "No, I don't need help. Your dad might, though," she says, "Ask him." We roam around to the living room. "Dad?" Luke calls out. There was no answer. We walk over to the already set up dining room. "Dad?" He calls out again. No answer. "Maybe he's upstairs," I tell him. We go upstairs. Right down the hall are steps to the attic wide open. I walk over to it. "Dad?" I call out. Nothing. I walk up a few steps and ask for him. Still no answer. I crawl up until half of my body is in there. "Dad?" I ask. I was a bit scared. "Yes, Sweety?" He says, popping out of nowhere. His sudden reply startles me. "Jesus, Dad!" I holler, "You scared me! What are you doing up here?" "Sorry! I am putting away holiday decoration," he says, "What do you need?" "Oh, do you need us to do anything else?" I ask him. "No, you and your brother are free for the rest of the day," he says. "It's night already," I correct him. "Oh, well then that's it for the night," he says. "Cool! What are we having for dinner?" "We're probably ordering pizza," he replies. "Okay," I say, "Thanks!" I crawl back down the steps. "We're free," I tell Luke. "Yes! I'm gonna go walk around the neighborhood," Luke says. "It's nighttime already!" I tell him. "Fine! I'll check out the neighborhood tomorrow," he says.

We go downstairs and walk into the living room where mom was sitting down, reading a book. "Dad says we're having pizza," I tell her. "Yeah, I already ordered it," she tells us. "Great!" I exclaim, "I'm starving!" We go sit on the couch and wait for the pizza in silence, since the television hasn't been hooked up yet. The doorbell rings and it's the pizza delivery man. "Mom! It's the pizza!" I holler. She grabs her wallet and pays the man. "Honey," she calls out for her husband, "dinner is here!" "On my way," Dad responds. He walks downstairs and we go into the dining room. We say the blessing and then we start to eat on the pizza. "How did everything go?" Dad asks me. With what?" I ask. "Your room!" he says. "Oh! It is perfect!" I tell him. "That's good!" he says, "What about you, Luke?" "It's okay," he begins, "It's not perfect, like Emily's, but it's decent." "Great! I'll get the televisions and computers hooked up tomorrow," Dad says. We finish up our meal and Mom cleans everything in the kitchen. I go to my bedroom, extremely tired. I change and enter the warmth of my bed. It only takes me a few minutes to fall asleep.


Did you like this article?
1 Star = Bleh.5 Stars = Props!
Rate it!
Ymail this article to a friend.
Discuss this article in the Forums.

  Back to front page