Unwritten Pages

Chapter Seventeen: Washroom Restroom

     It's Sunday. My parents have left for work again. They'll be back in a few hours though—they don't have to work until midnight on Sundays.

     But then I remind myself—they had a break on Thursday, the day of Winter's funeral. I'm pretty sure they have to work extra hours.

     With nothing to do, I start reading the next entry. Now I kind of understand what it feels like to be so immersed in a book that you forget your surroundings.

September 10th

     Saturday is boring... I did nothing today... Ugh... I wish that I had, like...art classes today. But they don't start until next month. Same with the guitar lessons. So I just moped around in my room all day and drew some pictures and practised my instruments.

     With an exception of food breaks and washroom breaks, of course.

     So, just because I talked about the washroom, I'll write some things about my experiences when I say 'washroom'.

     I went to the States a few years ago. I needed to go REALLY badly. Seriously, pee could have ran down my legs if I didn't go in a few seconds.

     I said, “I need to go to the washroom, guys!”

     My two cousins (they were both girls, by the way) exchanged looks and burst into laughter. Since I needed to go really bad, I ignored them and rushed to the washroom.

     After I did my business, I went back to the living room and Lina and Kat were laughing so hard, you might have thought they were under some laughing spell.

     “Um, guys?” I said, confusion clearly written on my face.

     “The washroom! Ah ha ha!” Lina said and she wiped a tear away from her eyes. I frowned. Tears? She was laughing so hard that she was crying? What the heck was this?

     So I was in seventh grade at the time and when people laughed at me—I usually had to find out what they were laughing about or I would be depressed for the rest of the day.

     “What the heck are you laughing about? I needed to go to the washroom!” I exclaimed.

     With the word 'washroom', Lina and Kat laughed even harder. Kat doubled over and fell off the couch. It would have been a funny sight if I wasn't so stressed with why they were laughing.

     “'Washroom'!” Kat imitated before laughing some more. She clutched her stomach.

     “Oh my gosh!” Lina said. “Stop making me laugh! My stomach's hurting!” She was still laughing and she ran out of the living room to control herself.

     Kat continued to laugh. I knew they probably wouldn't say anything until they stopped laughing, so I sat on the couch and waited.

     Lina came in a few seconds later, a bit calmer. But when she saw Kat, she started to laugh again and she ran out of the living room and stayed there this time.

     Kat finally stopped laughing. She was heaving, her cheeks red.

     “Okay,” I said. “What was so funny?”

     “You said washroom,” Kat said, as if that explained everything. I frowned.

     “She's Canadian!” Lina shouted from the kitchen.