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DANGEROUS PIE
Theres a beautiful girl to my left, another to
my right. Hundreds of colored balloons are tethered
down behind me, baking in the June sun. Im wearing
a brown gown thats sticking to my sweat-drenched
skin, trying to keep my head straight so that my
weird square cap doesnt fall off in front of the
thousand people who are watching me. And of
course, because Im me, Im spacing out.The questions
are just tumbling through my mind.
How did I get up here? What have I learned
since September? How could my life have possibly
changed so much in only ten months?
Im not even sure I understand the questions,
much less where to begin looking for the answers.
I guess a good starting point would be the
longest journal Ive ever written in English class.
This was back in September, when I was pretty sure
about life. The topic was The most annoying thing
in the world, and we were supposed to write the
usual one-page response to it. I sat there for a few
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Miss Palma gave me an A on the journal entry she
called it droll so I guess I actually managed to
get some use out of Jeffreys antics before the chaos
of this year started. Looking back on those days now,
Id have eaten the Dangerous Pie if I could have
stopped October from coming.
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JEFFREYS MOATMEAL
ACCIDENT
Cream of wheat.
MOATMEAL!
Okay, you dont have to call out the National Guard.
Ill make the oatmeal.
Yay! Moatmeal!
Up in the kitchen, I sat Jeffrey on a bar stool so
he could help by mixing the oatmeal with the
water before I nuked it. My mom always tells me not
to leave Jeffrey up on the high stools without me
standing right next to him, but shes ridiculously
overprotective. If she had her way, hed be wearing
body armor to kindergarten. Anyway, he was babbling away about how our special moatmeal treat
would rex his parts when I turned away for
a second to get a wooden spoon. I heard a swish, a
crack, a thump, and a little whimper.When I looked
back, I realized that Jeffrey must have slipped off the
stool and banged his face on the counter. He looked
up at me from the oor for that miserable split second little kids always take before the wailing starts,
and I saw a drop of blood under his nose.Then two
things happened at once: He started to scream like
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Dad, is he
Im sure hell be ne, Steven. Noses bleed a lot. Go!
Thats when I looked at the kitchen clock and
saw that it was already 7:09. We had to be out the
door in eleven minutes. So I went upstairs, tossed
the bloody PJ shirt in the bathroom sink, took the
worlds fastest shower, combed my hair into some
kind of shape, and hurled myself into jeans and a Sum
41 T-shirt. By 7:14, I was at the door.
Dad! Im ready!
My dad appeared with the attach case Id
bought him for Christmas two years ago Guess
what, Dad? Its a REAL accountant briefcase, with a REAL
pocket for your calculator and got into his coat
without a word.
Dad, are you, uh, OK?
I never particularly noticed my dads moods, but
he was looking kind of pale and tense. I glanced over
at the kitchen and noticed that he had cleaned up
Jeffreys blood from the oor, which couldnt have
been fun.
Fine. Come.
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