I do some seriously stupid stuff when I'm bored.
It's not that I mean to do stupid stuff, my brain doesn't realize it's stupid until I've already done it and my grandma is standing there fuming at me, her dark, leathery wrinkled arms crossed tightly to her chest, her red slippered foot tapping noiselessly against the plush carpet and her muddy brown eyes surrounded my crows feet and laugh lines cursing me in her mother language.
It was times like these I really hated summer.
"So." She said, taking a deep breath before continueing. She always did that, take a deep breath to try to calm herself before she did anything rash like get her shotgun or wring my neck.
Though I highly doubt it will help this time.
"...Yes ma'am?" I whimpered, hands behind my back and my head down cast. There was no way on this good green planet I could look her in the eye; she may reduce my body to dust with the stare she was giving me.
You think I'm kidding.
"What in god's name possesed you to do this?" She asked, uncrossing her arm and pointing to our once pristine white persian cat, that was now green.
"...It seemed like a-"
"Good idea at the time! Aidios Mio Mija, you can't keep doing these things!" She exclaimed, sounding exausted, exasperated and like she had finally snapped.
I don't blame her, my other relatives didn't last this long.
"I can dye her back, just a little bleach and she'll be-"
"No, Sofia, you will not bleach the cat! This..." She took a deep breath again "This has gotten out of hand. First it was the stove-top rocket boots-"
"Those could've worked if you-"
"You succeeded in giving yourself third degree burns on your feet, ruined my stove and almost burnt my kitchen down! Then there was the experiment with the explosives; you had such pretty pale hair before those." She said, taking a piece of my now styled boy cut hair. My eyebrows still hadn't completely grown back from that incident, and my scalp was never quite the same again.
"And then there was the sticky note escapade-"
"Okay Nana, I get the picture." I said, head still downcast. I hated when she called me Sofia. That was my middle name, a dumb name. My name was Lilly, not Sofia, not Hernandez, and most definatly not Lillian. But I hated even more was when I got in trouble, she always went back to what I had done before, as if listing off reasons that she could dump me to my next relatives.
She sighed again, putting a hand behind her salt and pepper curls.
I hated when she did that. She looked 85 when she did that, she looked exausted when she did that, and she looked ready to give up when she did that.
"Just...go to your room. I don't want to see you the rest of the night." And with that, she turned away from me and plopped down onto one of the four kitchen chairs we had.
I turned on my heel and made my way through her maze like home, passed pictures of our many cousins, 5 aunts and uncles, and passed old pictures of my dad in his Air Marshal's uniform, a big cheesy grin on his face.
I didn't like my eyes wondering when I went down this hallway to my room.
Walking into my room, I made a straight path to my bed and fell flat against the soft sheets and matress.
I hated summer.
My mind was always working, always concocting new ways for me to get in deep with my Nana. The boredum didn't help, and the fact I had zero friends here in good ol' Conroe, Texas was also a negative factor in mine and Nana's relationship.
I miss Michiasport. I miss the Maine weather that stayed consistantly humid, wet and cold. I hate this humid, hot-as-satan's-ball-sack desert that could be a sauna one second, then I'd need a jacket the next.
And fun fact for the day: Texans do not, in fact, ride horses to work unless they work at the Rodeo. I leanred that one the hard way.
I sighed as I plugged headphones into my phone and pressed shuffle. I didn't plan on waking up until noon tomorrow, and my Nana liked to knock on my door and try to talk.
I wasn't in a talking mood.
I woke up to a goat bleating next to my window. I groaned, cursing my Nana for living next to a goat farm.
Or well, almost five acres from a goat farm. But those goobers always got out and into trouble.
I peeled myself off my bed, unsticking my headphone's wire from my hot skin and looked to see my phone was dead. I plugged it into the IHome so it could charge.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I decided it was high time I took a shower. For one thing, my short blond hair looked greasy and grimy from being unwashed for the last two days, and taking a shower was something to do, something I couldn't get in trouble for doing.
So, after cleaning the two days off of me, and scubbing my still green hands until they were christmas colors, I got dressed for the day in an outfit that consisted of a bright blue sports bra and black soffie shorts.
I examined myself in the mirror, my pale green eyes staring critically at a Mt. Everest sized pimple on my otherwise clean face. It was located right in the middle of the apple of my right cheek, and I tried to stare it to oblivion, hoping if I looked mean enough at it, it would hop off my face.
I had no such luck, and I was not popping that monster. It hadn't turned into a white head, so I'll just procrastinate until then.
My potential acne problems put on hold for the moment, I decided to occupy myself, so I blew dried my hair and styled it to how I wanted it, which took an hour of my time.
It was two O'clock when I was done and I still had five hours to screw around with.
I could already feel my brain listing off one hundred and one things I could do while I wait, some being illegal, and some involving Mr. Mittens, the furry green persian. I shook my head, my bangs tickling the tips of my eyelids with the motion, as I tried to clear my head.
I will not play with explosives today.
I will not ruin anymore kitchen appliences.
I will most certainly NOT shave Mr. Mittens.
The same bleat that had woken me up today startled me out of my empty promises to myself, and my head snapped to the window in the bathroom that looked out over Nana's ten acre backyard.
What any single 75 year old woman needs with a ten acre backyard is beyond me.
But outside, I could see a little white goat with a neat blue collar had become entrapped in one of my own creations: a badly made wolf trap.
It had been to put Nana's mind at ease about the canine monsters. My Grandfather had unfortunatly been attacked by one before I had come to live here, and Nana had been scared of her enormous backyard since. She refuses to sell the place, seeing as it was the last place she had lived with Papi, and it was the last place I had happy memories with my parents.
So, I had placed various traps around the backyard, a project Nana had more appreciation for. I didn't have a whole lot of faith in them, but if it put Nana's heart at ease and she feels safe enough to go into the backyard, then I wouldn't complain.
I looked at the goat in absolute exasperation. It was sunny and clear outside, and the trap could be clearly seen in any direction. How this goat had walked right into it, I don't know nor did I care at the time.
I slipped a pair of Sperrys on before sprinting out the door to the stupid goat.
I had to restart this damn thing 7 different times.
And no, it wasn't because my computer crashed.
I was just never satisfied with it! I wanted to have story behind her, actual depth, but try as I might the chapter always ended up getting too long and tedious or too short and there was absolutely no rhyme or reason behind it! I honestly had to step away from this thing for a few days before I threw my computer at the wall.
But, now that this first one is over and done with, it should be fairly easy to get everything else out. I had everything planned out, all the story, what in the movie I'd change around, what kind of relationship Lilly would have with everyone, BUT I NEVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THE FIRST BLEEPING CHAPTER.
So, I apologize too everyone that I told this chapter was going to be up, like, two weeks ago. I had a road blockage in my brain and it's all fixed now:)