Categories > Original > Fantasy > Guardian Angel

chapter 4

by flying_angel 0 reviews

Category: Fantasy - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Published: 2008-06-14 - Updated: 2008-06-14 - 522 words

I was having a pretty crappy day to begin with. First it was a crappy morning. I awoke to disgusting sounds, such as moaning, panting, and bumping, in my father's room.And I know what you're thinking.But I'm not going into further detail.

So I went into the kitchen with Michael, and started making toast.Hey, I was hungry. I also started brewing some coffee. I'd had a rough night, and I was a mess and still had to get ready for school. High School, ugh.

Michael was sitting on the counter(hey, isn't he not supposed to be able to do that? hmmm...I'll have to ask him later.). I was pouring myself a cup of coffee when he asked,"Hey Emily, can we get a pet? Perfferably a bird?"

"Why do you want a bird?"I took a sip of coffee.

He looked at me with a straight face. "So I'll be able to fly with someone. YOu can't even run fast."

I lowered my cup and swallowed the coffee in my mouth. Michael, meanwhile, burst out laughing, unable to keep a straight face anymore. I glared at him. "I'm not in the mood for jokes."

"Why?" He started flying around the kitchen."It's a beautiful morning."

"It's too early to be this happy," I grumbled irratably.

Just then, with a 'pop', my toast came flying out of the toaster. MIchael caught a piece and took a bite.

"Hey, that's my breakfast you're eating," I informed him as I picked the remaining piece off the floor.

He grinned at me."Hey, I'm hungry."

"How can you be hungry? You're dead." As soon as the words slipped from my mouth, I wished I could snatch them back. Great, just great, Emily.

That wiped the grin off his face. Michael slowly swallowed the bite he ws eating. He stared at the floor tiles.

"Oh Michael, I'm so-"

"You should probably get dressed," he said without looking up. I really had hurt him.

I looked at the clock. He was right; it was 7:10. "Ya, I guess you're right."He didn't move, so I walked to my room.

I looked through my closet. Hmmm......what to wear? Mom always said I looked good in bright, spring clothes. Mom. I quickly pushed the thought from my mind. But then a warm, fuzzy feeling filled up in my head.Michael. It was his way of telling me he was there, reading my thoughts. I don't know what he feels when I read his thoughts, though.

I decided on jeans, a long-sleeved yellow shirt, a light pink bandanna and pink high-top sneakers. I was in the middle of tying my bandanna back when Michael's voice entered my head.

I rolled my eyes. Michael could be so difficult sometimes. He could go from serious to cheerful to sad to impatient.It drove me nuts!

Michael drifted in through the door. Literally. Through the door.

He grinned."Why are you still using thought-speak?"

I finished tying my shoes and stood up.

"Alright," he chuckled.

So, grabbing my bookbag, MIchael and I walked side by side to the bustop.
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