I am so caught up in doing totally nothing.
I should do homework.
Nah. Just copy off your friends at school.
So then I should plan my stories?
Nah. Do that during class.
But I’m too busy playing Poptropica in class…
Well, too bad for you, you won’t get any work done.
That’s seriously the way my mind has worked for the past month. Even now, when all the exams are done and homework is scarce, I can’t bring myself to actually start. I even have a French speech contest in less than a week and I’ve only read over my speech once.
And ever since I found out that Poptropica isn’t blocked on my laptop, I’ve been playing madly on it in classes like SOSE, English, Science and even Art. It’s not surprising that my best exam was Maths, since that’s the only lesson where we don’t use laptops.
(Sometimes I also play Club Penguin too. Something weird happened yesterday. I suddenly discovered that I’d somehow gotten a free membership, and in my excitement I splurged all my money on a new igloo. But as soon as I logged out, my membership was gone, and so was my igloo, but all the items I bought are in my inventory. And I can’t use them.)
As for story writing… Well, I get a bit more done in that area, but the problem is that all the effort goes to waste. I did about three thousand words of world-building, even inventing a whole new religion, but then I thought: Oh, I don’t like this idea anymore. Too bad.
However, I had a dream that gave me an idea, and I’ll write about it now since God knows I have more than enough free time on the bus…
So it was basically starring this guy in class, Jeremy, who likes me but whom I don’t like back.
One day he died. Just like that.
I saw his face in the black body bag, and I thought glumly: Oh wow, he’s actually dead…
So after that, about a week passed and no one really thought about him that much. But then I started to miss him, so I asked my friend Gabby to accompany me to his “grave”, which in my dream was inside a giant warehouse full of bodies in black zip up bags. Somehow it was inside the school (well, dreams are crazy) and on the way there I passed my friend.
“Oh hey there, I was just on my way to the morgue,” I said. And yes, I do know that morgue and graveyard are different but apparently my subconscious doesn’t.
Me and Gabby went inside the giant warehouse and found Jeremy’s body bag on one of the shelves. I stood there in silence, not really knowing what to say.
After a while I said to Gabby, “So he liked me. That’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”
Gabby nodded in agreement.
And then we left.
But a few days later I was walking around in the school grounds, and along came Jeremy.
And I was so angry that I tried to punch him, but he dodged, just like in real life when I try to hit him. He was grinning smugly.
“You’re meant to be dead!”
“Yet here I am.”
“Fake death. Clever, no?”
I don’t know what happened after that because Mum woke me up. But I’d been reading this YA novel about the Yakuza and I got wondering, maybe he was running from some sort of Australian Yakuza! Story ideas galore!
Anyway, the bus has arrived, so bye.