Aubrey
“‘You guys, I don’t think this is a good idea.’ I hate the dark. And the woods.”
“‘You guys, I don’t think this is a good idea.’ I hate the dark. And the woods.”
“’I find a pleasing humor in that fruit bowl. And the hanging lantern. And the — what is that vast… thing… over there?’
The juvenile servant rushed to the rich man’s side. ‘It is the ocean. Quite beautiful, if I may say?’
The rich man squinted his eyes, then clenched his fists, resisting the impending irritation. ‘Well, it was not there yesterday.’
‘It was, you just did not perceive its presence.'”
“A soft pinging plays as the stewardess who’s probably been working in this airport for far too long asks, for the third time, for a passenger to give up their seat on the overbooked plane. The terminal is cold and stiff, unlike the hot and stuffy air awaiting me in 600 miles and 4 hours. I look out the large windows facing the tarmac.”
“It is my first day of middle school. Everyone says middle school is where you mature and become more responsible. I don’t want to go to middle school. At this middle school I am going to, everyone knows each other from elementary school, so it will be much harder for me to make friends. I had to leave all my friends and my home for this school, well at least the people I thought were my friends.”
“My classmates are filing out of the front doors of the school, while the bell I dread every day rings, and I sit on the sunbaked front steps. None of them acknowledge me. They are rushing out of school to summers filled with friendship and freedom while I dread the car that comes to pick me up and deliver me to another two hours of emptying my brain to professionals of everything they consider ‘toxic.'”