Categories > Original > Humor > Army Of Two

Chapter 3. (Forest)

by ImAFlyingDonkey 0 reviews

Category: Humor - Rating: G - Genres: Crossover - Published: 2013-01-25 - Updated: 2013-01-25 - 491 words

0Unrated
Chapter 3. (Forest)

I woke up this morning feeling like a lead balloon. I guess it was my time of the month. Ah well. Cant be helped. Arnie looked at me sleepily from the end of my bed. As if to say “Your off again are you, to the place you don’t stop moaning about.” well that was the impression I got, he could have been easily saying “Get a move on bitch, feed me!!” But that’s not my Arnie.

I pushed the covers away and stretched up, nearly kicking Arnie off the bed as I do too often. My sponge bob pyjama’s were wearing a bit thin, but I love them “Don’t do mornings…!!” It reads. Too right! Especially on a school day. I opened up my curtains too, and already see people in my uniform walking to school. Oh yeah that’s right. I woke up late. Again.

I rushed to the bathroom splashed my face with cold water and brushed my teeth. Trying to comb my hair at the same time. It was clear me and my hair were at a disagreement on which way it was going to fall today. I decided wetting it a bit would really help. It didn’t. But it was an attempt.

My uniform was lying on the floor in a ball from last Friday. As you can tell. I wasn’t one for looking my total best. I unscrewed it from its tight ball and hurriedly threw it on my body. The shirt wasn’t too bad. Shame it was hidden by the itchy jumper. And the skirt was ridiculous!! What school outside of Scotland wear a kilt!!? I’m being serious! “Your skirt must be long enough so your ankles are not showing.” Says the head master every assembly. But do you think this stops the girls from rolling it up? Nope. It doesn’t.

I ran past the landing, having a glance in my dad’s bedroom. The bed wasn’t made. But he wasn’t in it. To be honest I didn’t care were he was.

I put on my shoes. A lovely pair of red converse. I can get away with this. The only advantage of wearing a skirt long enough to not show your feet. I give Arnie a pat as I leave the hallway. I get half way down the path when I realise I hasn’t made lunch for myself.

I ran back into the kitchen and grabbed two slices of bread, a bit of ham and slathered it in mustard. This time I should really leave.

As I closed the door, Arnie looked up at me pleadingly. I rolled my eyes and threw the sandwich at him. He gave me a cheeky grin. And trotted off with the sandwich in his slobbery jaw’s.

I give into easily. that’s my problem. And by far not my only fault
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