hey peeps
hi guys. i wrote a story for language arts. this is it. tell me if you like it, non-existent readers.
Yes, I Lost My Backpack
“Leanne, come on! We’re going to be so late Mrs. Newick will kill us!”
That was the sound of my twin sister, Lori. She kind of had some separation issues. If she had her way, we would have been surgically glued together from birth. The only time she wouldn’t trail me around like a puppy yearning for a snack was when she was at guitar lessons. She was an avid guitar player, while I was a hard-core oboe girl. She claimed playing put her in her very own “nirvana” and allowed her to be at peace with the world. I just liked being away from her once in a while.
Anyway, we were rushing out of Ms. Blaine’s class to Mrs. Newick's social studies room. I was so rushed, I forgot my lavender backpack. It was nearly empty except a couple random items. I was toting around the rest of my school stuff, too anxious to let it out of my sight. But I left my bag hidden by the bookshelf and next to the podium. And I didn’t even realize it ‘til that evening. So let’s skip to then.
I was mondo-stressing, for some reason. I wasn’t like super attached to my bag or anything. We didn’t survive a fall off Niagara Falls together or something. But I was wicked tense. Maybe it was because I had some subconscious connection to the array of junk I had left in my bag. I mean, it only had a blank notebook in which I wanted to start a journal, but I never had the time, a pencil I picked up off the floor at Hannaford, a guitar pick with a grippy pad on it for Lori, a book called Stargirl, my mini magnifying glass I got in New Hampshire visiting Uncle Kerry at his cottage, and a chocolate makers card from Costa Rica. Oh, and a little treasure chest my Uncle Kerry got me in Ireland, a funny tiger patterned key I found in the parking lot at the mall, a button that fell off of my three inch high teddy bear, and a small purse I also bought in Costa Rica. I mentally ran through the items one more time, thinking about its past and whether I had a strong connection with it or not.
Notebook. Picked up at Staples for $2. Besides the fact that I wanted to start a journal in it but I never did, nothing at all appealed to me about it.
The pencil. I just picked it up at Hannaford. It was a regular little yellow pencil. The tip was dull and flat. It was a boring shade of orange yellow. Nothing special at all.
The guitar pick for Lori. I had bought it at the local guitar store for like a dollar. It had a little grippy pad and COOL on it. Maybe I could bribe Lori with it for something? But she already had like a quadrillion.
The change purse with a Chinese yen bill and a chocolate makers card. The purse I bought in a little hut in Costa Rica, and the chocolate maker card from some little home-owned chocolate place down the street from the hut. The Chinese money, however, was from the business trip my dad had made the previous month. I think it wasn’t even worth a penny financially, but to me, it was a great gift from my dad.
Stargirl is a novel I had been reading at the time. It was a class assignment and I had to read out of Lori’s copy that night. It was a good book and all, but I don’t think that I was in love with it, desperate to get it back.
The mini treasure chest with a tiger key and a button in it. As I said before, Uncle Kerry got me the chest in a little store in Ireland. The key was found in the parking lot at the mall last weekend. I had put it in my pocket but when we got home I transferred it to my backpack. The button had fallen off of my little three inch high teddy bear. My aunt Leanne (who I was named after) gave it to me on my sixth birthday. I had named him Charlie and was my good luck charm. I had to put him in my bag for luck on a French test.
And last, the mini magnifying glass. I got it as a present from a little mom and pop store down in New Hampshire while visiting Uncle Kerry and his cottage. Uncle Kerry bought it for me because he saw me looking at some daisies in his garden and wanted me to see them better. So while we were buying groceries, her slipped into a corner and bought it. It wasn’t an item of real importance. It wasn’t like an expensive one, but just a plastic thing with sliding lenses. But I still liked it because it reminded me of Uncle Kerry, like the Chinese money my dad.
I was able to do all of my school work because, as I said, I had all of my school stuff with me all day long. While completing a math worksheet, a reflection on a poetry reading, a practice essay on the accomplishments of foreigners in the Revolutionary War, and a French worksheet, I set to scheming. Scheming how to retrieve my bag before school. Students weren’t supposed to be at school before 7 unless they had a special meeting with a teacher. And if Ms. Blaine got to school before I did and found it before I did, she would probably place it in the giant cart I like to call the abyss of lost stuff. Even if I caught her walking down the stairs with it, well... she’d question me about being at school early and other stuff. Then once she placed it in the abyss, someone might take it before I got to it or it could be lost to the gods of the underworld through the portal of non-return.
“Lori, tomorrow we have to be at school AT 7. Okay?” There she was, sitting right next to me as I was multiplying 9.7539 and -3.475 for math in the basement.
“Okay. Wait, why? Do you like have to do homework you forgot at school or something?”
“Sort of.”
So it was set. I would locate some random custodian and tell him I had forgotten some thing in Ms. Blaine’s room and if he could unlock the door I would be really grateful. Then using my stealth granted to me by petite size, I would slip into the room, slither across the room, and snatch my purple bag. Well, maybe I would just walk in and get it, but who cares?
Nothing of great importance happened that night, so let’s just fast-forward to the next morning as I was shaking Lori awake.
“LORI!!!! GET UP!!! Come on! I CANNOT be late today!”
“Euragheagh.” That’s the written form of the grumble that issued from her mouth as I was vigorously rocking her back and forth.
“FINE!! Catch the bus, then!”
Those magic words hinting at our separation for more than two minutes while she was conscious yanked her out of bed like a puppet and an out of control puppeteer.
“No it’s okay. I’ll be ready in like a minute. Probably less.”
“You BETTER!!!” I screamed to my fleeting sister as she tossed herself through the door.
Oh my gosh. It was 6:53, and I absolutely HAD to get to school before 7. Ms. Blaine is famous (not really) for getting to school at exactly 7:07 every day. So I had to locate a custodian by 7:00, run upstairs with him dragging behind me, get in by 7:03, find my bag, then escape and be far, far away from the scene by 7:06. Oh, and I’d have to turn off the lights and stuff too.
It was four minutes later and Lori had miraculously become ready for school, complete with breakfast.
“THREE MINUTES!!” I was practically hysterical. And I’m still not sure why. As I said before, I wasn’t in love with my bag or anything. Or anything in it, to my knowledge. But I HAD to get there before Ms. Blaine did.
I was forcing my mom to drive as fast as she would while still obeying the speed limit. I mentally thanked my parents for moving closer to the school, now one mile versus the five last year. Nothing really thrilling occurred in the car ride to school, so let’s just skip to the part where I’m frantically/methodically searching the school for a janitor.
7:02 and I was practically leaping through the halls, desperate for anyone with a key to Ms. Blaine’s room. After an entire minute of searching, I found nothing but a paperclip. I rushed through the eighth grade hallway back to Ms. Blaine’s room. I fumbled with the paperclip, finally flipping it out to an “s” form. Then I jammed it between the lock and door, constantly moving it back and forth. It took forever, but I got in. Then when I closed the door, I felt the door handle glide down. It had been unlocked the entire time. Swiveling my head to glance at the clock, I heard a clacking of footsteps down the hall. Ms. Blaine! A minute early, too! I dove onto the floor, snatched my purple bag, and then simply ran to the teacher workroom door and hurried it open. Quietly closing the door behind me in a hurried manner, I heard Ms. Blaine open the door, and notice that the lights were still on.
“Odd. I.... why are these lights on?”
I heard her clicking heels tap across the floor to her closet and slip off her jacket and hang it on a closet hook thing while I was breathing heavily. My heart beating like a rabbits in my ear, I slithered in reverse toward the other door out of the workroom, clenching my backpack in my right hand, my left had assisting me in my escape. After I had successfully shuffled out of the closet, I popped out, looking for other people in the hall. Then I noticed Ms. Blaine had stuck her head out the door.
“Oh. Found my earring.” I made a big show of fiddling with my ear to make her think I had just put in an earring. I think she bought it.
After hustling down the stairs, through the fifth grade wing, then into the female bathroom, I checked my bag. I was carefully inspecting everything, making sure nothing was lost or damaged. While I was checking the treasure chest, I discovered a little fake bottom. I popped it out, and realized a small note had been hiding out there for so long. It was a newspaper clipping.
To answer Ms. Lucy O’Norf’s question regarding her sisters need to be with her all the time, I have composed this letter.
Dear Lucy,
I understand your sister is having some trouble separating with you, even at the age of 37. My advice is to tell her exactly how you feel about her trailing you around all the time. Everyone needs personally space, and it seems like you haven’t been getting enough. If she has a complete mental breakdown, I suggest you send her to a therapist. I know of a good few in the area who specialize in separation issues. Call me at 555-1234-2343 and my receptionist will gladly mail you a letter with the addresses. On the other hand, she could accept your wishes and your life could just go on as it is (without Mary following you around).
Sincerely,
Ms. Ida L. Hinstin
At the bottom a note was scrawled in the margin. It said “Leanne, this should help with Lori”. Uncle Kerry always did understand my little “problem” with Lori, and now he had come through.
Later that afternoon...
I had just got back from school and was biting into an apple when I remembered the article from the newspaper. I immediately decided to tell Lori about how we both needed our own space.
“Lori, I was wondering if you could stop following me around. I think we should just be on our own a while and if you cooperate I will give you this really neat-”
“HEY! You don’t need to give me anything. I was going to tell you tonight that you need to just back off and stop trailing me around everywhere.”
“Okay. We’ve reached an agreement. No more following people around.”
I worked really hard on it.
Yes, I Lost My Backpack
“Leanne, come on! We’re going to be so late Mrs. Newick will kill us!”
That was the sound of my twin sister, Lori. She kind of had some separation issues. If she had her way, we would have been surgically glued together from birth. The only time she wouldn’t trail me around like a puppy yearning for a snack was when she was at guitar lessons. She was an avid guitar player, while I was a hard-core oboe girl. She claimed playing put her in her very own “nirvana” and allowed her to be at peace with the world. I just liked being away from her once in a while.
Anyway, we were rushing out of Ms. Blaine’s class to Mrs. Newick's social studies room. I was so rushed, I forgot my lavender backpack. It was nearly empty except a couple random items. I was toting around the rest of my school stuff, too anxious to let it out of my sight. But I left my bag hidden by the bookshelf and next to the podium. And I didn’t even realize it ‘til that evening. So let’s skip to then.
I was mondo-stressing, for some reason. I wasn’t like super attached to my bag or anything. We didn’t survive a fall off Niagara Falls together or something. But I was wicked tense. Maybe it was because I had some subconscious connection to the array of junk I had left in my bag. I mean, it only had a blank notebook in which I wanted to start a journal, but I never had the time, a pencil I picked up off the floor at Hannaford, a guitar pick with a grippy pad on it for Lori, a book called Stargirl, my mini magnifying glass I got in New Hampshire visiting Uncle Kerry at his cottage, and a chocolate makers card from Costa Rica. Oh, and a little treasure chest my Uncle Kerry got me in Ireland, a funny tiger patterned key I found in the parking lot at the mall, a button that fell off of my three inch high teddy bear, and a small purse I also bought in Costa Rica. I mentally ran through the items one more time, thinking about its past and whether I had a strong connection with it or not.
Notebook. Picked up at Staples for $2. Besides the fact that I wanted to start a journal in it but I never did, nothing at all appealed to me about it.
The pencil. I just picked it up at Hannaford. It was a regular little yellow pencil. The tip was dull and flat. It was a boring shade of orange yellow. Nothing special at all.
The guitar pick for Lori. I had bought it at the local guitar store for like a dollar. It had a little grippy pad and COOL on it. Maybe I could bribe Lori with it for something? But she already had like a quadrillion.
The change purse with a Chinese yen bill and a chocolate makers card. The purse I bought in a little hut in Costa Rica, and the chocolate maker card from some little home-owned chocolate place down the street from the hut. The Chinese money, however, was from the business trip my dad had made the previous month. I think it wasn’t even worth a penny financially, but to me, it was a great gift from my dad.
Stargirl is a novel I had been reading at the time. It was a class assignment and I had to read out of Lori’s copy that night. It was a good book and all, but I don’t think that I was in love with it, desperate to get it back.
The mini treasure chest with a tiger key and a button in it. As I said before, Uncle Kerry got me the chest in a little store in Ireland. The key was found in the parking lot at the mall last weekend. I had put it in my pocket but when we got home I transferred it to my backpack. The button had fallen off of my little three inch high teddy bear. My aunt Leanne (who I was named after) gave it to me on my sixth birthday. I had named him Charlie and was my good luck charm. I had to put him in my bag for luck on a French test.
And last, the mini magnifying glass. I got it as a present from a little mom and pop store down in New Hampshire while visiting Uncle Kerry and his cottage. Uncle Kerry bought it for me because he saw me looking at some daisies in his garden and wanted me to see them better. So while we were buying groceries, her slipped into a corner and bought it. It wasn’t an item of real importance. It wasn’t like an expensive one, but just a plastic thing with sliding lenses. But I still liked it because it reminded me of Uncle Kerry, like the Chinese money my dad.
I was able to do all of my school work because, as I said, I had all of my school stuff with me all day long. While completing a math worksheet, a reflection on a poetry reading, a practice essay on the accomplishments of foreigners in the Revolutionary War, and a French worksheet, I set to scheming. Scheming how to retrieve my bag before school. Students weren’t supposed to be at school before 7 unless they had a special meeting with a teacher. And if Ms. Blaine got to school before I did and found it before I did, she would probably place it in the giant cart I like to call the abyss of lost stuff. Even if I caught her walking down the stairs with it, well... she’d question me about being at school early and other stuff. Then once she placed it in the abyss, someone might take it before I got to it or it could be lost to the gods of the underworld through the portal of non-return.
“Lori, tomorrow we have to be at school AT 7. Okay?” There she was, sitting right next to me as I was multiplying 9.7539 and -3.475 for math in the basement.
“Okay. Wait, why? Do you like have to do homework you forgot at school or something?”
“Sort of.”
So it was set. I would locate some random custodian and tell him I had forgotten some thing in Ms. Blaine’s room and if he could unlock the door I would be really grateful. Then using my stealth granted to me by petite size, I would slip into the room, slither across the room, and snatch my purple bag. Well, maybe I would just walk in and get it, but who cares?
Nothing of great importance happened that night, so let’s just fast-forward to the next morning as I was shaking Lori awake.
“LORI!!!! GET UP!!! Come on! I CANNOT be late today!”
“Euragheagh.” That’s the written form of the grumble that issued from her mouth as I was vigorously rocking her back and forth.
“FINE!! Catch the bus, then!”
Those magic words hinting at our separation for more than two minutes while she was conscious yanked her out of bed like a puppet and an out of control puppeteer.
“No it’s okay. I’ll be ready in like a minute. Probably less.”
“You BETTER!!!” I screamed to my fleeting sister as she tossed herself through the door.
Oh my gosh. It was 6:53, and I absolutely HAD to get to school before 7. Ms. Blaine is famous (not really) for getting to school at exactly 7:07 every day. So I had to locate a custodian by 7:00, run upstairs with him dragging behind me, get in by 7:03, find my bag, then escape and be far, far away from the scene by 7:06. Oh, and I’d have to turn off the lights and stuff too.
It was four minutes later and Lori had miraculously become ready for school, complete with breakfast.
“THREE MINUTES!!” I was practically hysterical. And I’m still not sure why. As I said before, I wasn’t in love with my bag or anything. Or anything in it, to my knowledge. But I HAD to get there before Ms. Blaine did.
I was forcing my mom to drive as fast as she would while still obeying the speed limit. I mentally thanked my parents for moving closer to the school, now one mile versus the five last year. Nothing really thrilling occurred in the car ride to school, so let’s just skip to the part where I’m frantically/methodically searching the school for a janitor.
7:02 and I was practically leaping through the halls, desperate for anyone with a key to Ms. Blaine’s room. After an entire minute of searching, I found nothing but a paperclip. I rushed through the eighth grade hallway back to Ms. Blaine’s room. I fumbled with the paperclip, finally flipping it out to an “s” form. Then I jammed it between the lock and door, constantly moving it back and forth. It took forever, but I got in. Then when I closed the door, I felt the door handle glide down. It had been unlocked the entire time. Swiveling my head to glance at the clock, I heard a clacking of footsteps down the hall. Ms. Blaine! A minute early, too! I dove onto the floor, snatched my purple bag, and then simply ran to the teacher workroom door and hurried it open. Quietly closing the door behind me in a hurried manner, I heard Ms. Blaine open the door, and notice that the lights were still on.
“Odd. I.... why are these lights on?”
I heard her clicking heels tap across the floor to her closet and slip off her jacket and hang it on a closet hook thing while I was breathing heavily. My heart beating like a rabbits in my ear, I slithered in reverse toward the other door out of the workroom, clenching my backpack in my right hand, my left had assisting me in my escape. After I had successfully shuffled out of the closet, I popped out, looking for other people in the hall. Then I noticed Ms. Blaine had stuck her head out the door.
“Oh. Found my earring.” I made a big show of fiddling with my ear to make her think I had just put in an earring. I think she bought it.
After hustling down the stairs, through the fifth grade wing, then into the female bathroom, I checked my bag. I was carefully inspecting everything, making sure nothing was lost or damaged. While I was checking the treasure chest, I discovered a little fake bottom. I popped it out, and realized a small note had been hiding out there for so long. It was a newspaper clipping.
To answer Ms. Lucy O’Norf’s question regarding her sisters need to be with her all the time, I have composed this letter.
Dear Lucy,
I understand your sister is having some trouble separating with you, even at the age of 37. My advice is to tell her exactly how you feel about her trailing you around all the time. Everyone needs personally space, and it seems like you haven’t been getting enough. If she has a complete mental breakdown, I suggest you send her to a therapist. I know of a good few in the area who specialize in separation issues. Call me at 555-1234-2343 and my receptionist will gladly mail you a letter with the addresses. On the other hand, she could accept your wishes and your life could just go on as it is (without Mary following you around).
Sincerely,
Ms. Ida L. Hinstin
At the bottom a note was scrawled in the margin. It said “Leanne, this should help with Lori”. Uncle Kerry always did understand my little “problem” with Lori, and now he had come through.
Later that afternoon...
I had just got back from school and was biting into an apple when I remembered the article from the newspaper. I immediately decided to tell Lori about how we both needed our own space.
“Lori, I was wondering if you could stop following me around. I think we should just be on our own a while and if you cooperate I will give you this really neat-”
“HEY! You don’t need to give me anything. I was going to tell you tonight that you need to just back off and stop trailing me around everywhere.”
“Okay. We’ve reached an agreement. No more following people around.”
I worked really hard on it.
