The Journal

"This red thingy"

By the end of the day I was ready to go home. Having to do classwork all day just wore me out. I grabbed my skateboard from my locker and rode down the streets, heading home. Life at home hasn't been difficult since dad died, but it has been hard. Mom's never really home that much. She works a lot. With Timmy, my little brother, it's hard for all of us. As for mom it's just hard because she has to care for us a lot, but me I just don't get to spend life as a teenager. At four thirty I usually pick up Timmy from the elementary; mom says that he shouldn't ride the bus due to the bullies. I know that the bullies don't really bother him, but mom just believes the impact of Dad's death is still there. You'd think that most kids would get so emotional all the time because one of their parents died, but with Timmy it's different. Timmy is like the man of the house, he's always been that way. He was always the one to cheer me up after school or when I felt upset.

I arrived at the house just at four, grabbed my car keys, and headed out the door. By the time I got to the elementary, one of the teachers was waiting like usual. I was late again.

"Sorry, Mr. Stuart, I didn't realize what time it was when I got out of school." I got out as I helped Timmy into the car.

"Oh, it's fine. Timmy and I were just playing guess who."

I remember that game for when Dad would be late to pick me up. The game taught a lot even though you would never know at the time. Mr. Stuart would describe a person and you'd have to guess who it was. It was the simplest game, but for kids it was always the best.

"Well, Timmy, we better get home," I never liked it when people tried to help, "Thank you again, Mr. Stuart, for watching him since I was late."

"No problem Coralline I'll see you tomorrow." We waved good bye.

Mr. Stuart was always considerable and concerned for all of his kids, no matter what type they are. I respected him for that. Timmy needed someone to look up to, generally now. We arrived home around five. Mom would be home in an hour, so I started to cook for the three of us.

"So aren't we having spaghetti tonight?" Timmy looked up at me with his big blue eyes, almost begging me.

"Yes, of course." I ruffled his hair, "Why would I ever say no to a child as cute as you?" He giggled and ran off and just like that he was out from under me. He always was the type of kid that could entertain himself; he always had a way in finding things to do, mostly playing with Legos. Just as I suspected, he was in his room playing with his Legos. I had just finished cooking when Mom walked in.

"Oh, hi Mom, I just finished cooking spaghetti. Timmy is in his room. How was work?" I set the table for three ready to fulfill my needs for food. She didn't say anything; she just walked away in to her room. She slammed the door behind her, making me cringe. I put her bowl in the fridge for her later, as I grabbed mine and Timmy's. I walked into his room handing him his bowl.

"Don't tell Mom. This is the only time I'm letting you eat in your room, okay? If you get any food on the floor, you'll be cleaning for weeks, got it?"

"Yes sir!" He screamed at me as we laughed together.

Once Timmy and I were done eating, he went to take a bath. Walking up to my room, I could hear Mom snoring away. I walked in and removed her glasses along with her shoes.

Once I covered her up she whispered, "I'm sorry, Coralline, please tell Timmy I love him."

"I know mom and yes mam I will." After that one comment it was like she passed out, if she was awake in the first place.

I walked in my room and collapsed on my bed. I work too hard as a teenager. I grabbed my book sack knowing I had to start on that report. Pulling out the book I noticed that I never really did open it and actually read it. Looking at the structure, it made me think of a scientist notebook, and so it read...