Monday, October 12, 2009

Chapter 1

It was the late summer when we moved into the rich suburb Wilmette. From what mom had told me about it, I figured we'd have a huge house with a large backyard. I was sorely disappointed. Our house was a brick bi-level with a cinnamon brown roof. The kitchen was small, but we had a separate dining room. The living room was medium sized and there was a white foyer floor by the front door. The walls were a white-and-blue smear, and our rust colored sofa clashed terribly with it.

There were three bedrooms upstairs and a peach colored bathroom. The countertop was stained pink in places where nailpolish had been spilled. There was mold forming on the ceiling over the shower,and the tile had a few mildew stains on it.

Personally, I did not see what was so great about the house. It was just an ordinary one to me. As I pondered this point, I wandered downstairs. Mom was stacking up dishes in the cupboard. For awhile, I watched her, and then, just to annoy her, I asked her why we moved here.

"John! How many times do I have to tell you!" she began irritably. "We moved because your father got a promotion, because the neighborhood is nice, and because the educational facilities are among the best in the country!"

I didn't see what was so great about the neighborhood, and I told mom this. Besides, if dad got such a great promotion, why couldn't we have a bigger house?

Mom sighed. "Look, I know this is hard for you. You're going into eighth grade without friends, but give it time. I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends, OK?" Mom hugged me.

Bored, I headed back to my room to begin to unpack. I hadn't been up there before, and that was a good thing, because I couldn't believe what I saw. I'm the oldest child in the family, so I got the 2nd biggest room. (My parents got the biggest.) Apparently, the oldest child of the previous owners had been a girl. The walls were covered with white wallpaper with various colored hearts printed on it. I vaguely remembered dad telling me we'd have to repaint my room. He'd said it was girlish, but I didn't think it would be this bad! Unhappily, I pushed my bookshelf against one of the walls and began to take out my books, soccer trophies, and the other miscellaneous things that I kept on the shelves. It was slow work and I was about to put Encyclopedia K on the bottom shelf, when mom called us for dinner.

We ate off paper plates and dad had gone to a place called Irv's Red Hots to get hot dogs and fries. The neighbor highly recommended Irv's to us, saying they were the best Chicago hot dogs. She was right, they were great.

Half way through his third fry, my younger brother Jeff looked at dad and declared that he could not use the room dad had given him.

"Why not?" Dad asked.

Jeff blinked. He looked annoyed. "Because the walls are light purple and the rug is pink!" Jeff stated as he made a barfing motion.

"Don't worry honey," Mom softly reassured him, "Soon we'll go out and get new paint and carpet."

We ate the rest of the meal in silence.

After dinner, we watched television and I went to sleep around 11:30. My first day had ended as peacefully as it had begun.


  1. So far I am riveted. I like that you were writing form a boys perspective!

  2. Thank you! The boy's perspective surprised me, too. No idea where it came from.


Oh, the hilarity!