FicWad

Hi, my name is Jasper, welcome to my blog. I think this part is meant to be called my 'bio', a brief description of a person, a shortened version of the longer word ' biography'. In bio's i presume you're meant to say stuff like your favorite film, food or book. I could tell you all of those things but frankly i think its boring and im trying to work on stopping being boring. So all i will tell you is the basics that you need to know. I am 16, I love in a small town in Texas USA, but im originally from Brooklyn New York. I have no father. But I have a mother, Tracy, she used to be a ballet dancer on Broadway, but then my grandpa get a stroke we both moved up here to look after him. I didnt mind that though. To me, Ne York was unfriendly. I was 12 and the city was not fun. I used to watch shows on Disney channel where kids would make tree houses and stay up there for hours and go to the movies with their friends. I could do neither of those activities as A) I had no garden, and therefore no trees, and B) to get to the movies i would have to catch the subway and mom said things were mean on the subway. Plus the fact that i didnt really have any friends was a pretty large contributing factor. So when Grandpa got sick and mom said we had to move to go live with him, I was happy. New York waas grey and I wanted green.
Grandpas house was huge. Mom grew up there so she knew the town really well. There was a post office, a bakery, a sweet shop and a couple of interdependent clothes stores which mostly sold women's dresses. We were only meant to stay for a little while until Grandpa got better and could look after himself, but I liked texts, and my new school. Mom was sad to leave her job because she had worked really hard for it, but she was starting her own ballet school soon so she would be ok. I think that having us around made grandpa happy, which made mom happy, which i guess made me happy. Sometimes I can tell mom misses our old home though. It was small and clean and she didnt have to stand on a stool to clean the cobwebs from the corners of the rooms. I dont know weather I miss it or not. Not Brooklyn, the house i mean. I haven't decided yet. You would have thought i would have by now seen as its been about 4 years altogether.
If you're still reading this 'bio' then thank you. I want to tell you about my friends, and what happened to us, why it happened and why i fell in love with her. This is a story of me, and why.

I remember that it was really cold that morning, which was weird for mid June. So i picked up a clannish looking sweater from the floor to go outside and feed the chickens. I hate those bloody chickens. So unappreciative. They do nothing, I swear. Their eggs taste like ass crack and we aren't allowed to kill them for food because mom says that shes 'grown attached'. Bullshit if you ask me. The chickens could tell I was coming. Their sly faces were poised for attack. The options were as follows: Brave the chickens, and their fairly sharp beaks. Throw the bucket into the pen, but risk bird injury, or simply throw the food in by the handful. Option 3 seemed like the best, though mom said i was meant to actually go into the pen and scatter the food.
Walking back up to the house I felt very accomplished, King of the Chickens, was I. I saw a post on Tumblr once about this girl who felt like the crab lord because she set her Moms live dinner crabs on the floor and they raised the claws in worship. My long lost sister perhaps? I do wish I had some kind of sibling though. It get lonley being the only kid around. Everyone says that they hate their siblings, and that im so lucky to be an only child. But as much as they complain about their siblings, they would miss them if they weren't around.
I could hear mom calling me in for breakfast. It was Saturday morning which meant two things. Blueberry pancakes and a very stressed out mother. On Saturdays she runs a ballet class for the kids in the town hall. Its cute really. Sometimes she takes me with her to watch. Its interesting seeing all the girls dressed up differently. Their hair all slicked back and tight, with lilac or pink tu-tu's/ Mom pretends that teaching the younger kids is annoying, but if you watch her closely when she sees a piece shes made come together, and everybody is standing where they're meant to stand and everyone is doing the right moves, you can see she is proud.
"Jasper, your breakfast is on the table,, pour yourself some orange juice please, i am very late and cant do everything around her for goodness sake," I had began to notice that mothers, especially my mother, seemed to think that things were actually a lot more of a problem than they ACTUALLY were. In truth, Mom was really not going much at all, she was propped up against the counter drinking a cup of something hot and most likely highly caffeine infused. Though, like the good son i am , i did as i was told and poured myself some juice, as im sure the stress of leaning on work surfaces whilst drinking was very tiring.
"so what are your plans for today?2 she asked. Plans, plans what are plans? what are MY plans? Fuck, I dont think ive had 'plans' since 5th grade.
"internet" yes. Internet. That was my plan, just as it was 96% of the rest of the year.
"Great!" - oh shit.
"you can help the new residents move into the guest house then," she said t was such enthusiasm and passion that it sounded as if she were walking about winning the lottery or going to disney land , or something of that exciting nature. Sure, helping people etc etc was a 'good thing' but i do not like A) socializing B) working or C) combining the two. Though disobeying Mother dearest was not a thing i was brave enough to do.
"okay" simple replies I find are the best when dealing with 'morning pretend cheery' Mom. Mom followed up my simple answer by saying "thank you darling, you're a sweetheart", using two adjectives there was not necessary but much appreciated Mom.