A/N So I was bored so I wrote this. It was originally for a scholarship where you had to write either a poem, song, or short story about being on punishment. I gave it a shot. I'm not necessarily good at short stories but I think this one is just a good laugh. Give it a chance. You might actually laugh! Tell me what you think about it please.
Punishment
Once again, I was on punishment. You know, that thing parents put you on when they “say” you did wrong? Yeah, well, that’s what happened to me except it honestly wasn’t me.
Mom came home yesterday to find the house a mess. I swear it wasn’t me! I was minding my own business, stealing mom’s stash of chocolate drizzled strawberries, when all of a sudden, I heard a big crash!
Naturally, I went to check it out. I walked into the family room only to realize mom’s precious little vase (a $10000 vase at that) was in pieces! In all honesty, I was baffled. Like, how did the vase just smash itself? That’s when I went on high alert. Obviously something fishy was going on. Then I realized that the window was opened. So of course I assumed it was the wind (we live in a very windy city after all).
So I close the window and clean up the pieces of the now destroyed vase. Now all I think about is: how on earth am I going to tell my mom the wind broke her vase? Of course she wouldn’t believe that. She would probably go on some wild tangent about why I shouldn’t practice my round house kick in the house any more (I broke the glass table once and I can never live it down!).
In the mist of picking up the broken porcelain, I hear another crash! Like, what on earth is going on!? Did I leave another window open?! So I get up and check it out. I walk back into the kitchen and find that mom’s secret stash of chocolate drizzled strawberries has found itself on the floor and mom’s crystal plate is now in pieces. Again, I asked myself “What in the world is going on here!?” No answer of course.
So I walk through the kitchen looking to find the source of the fall. Of course, I don’t find anything in particular. Lucky me. Now I have to explain to mom why her expensive ass vase is broke, why five of her strawberries are missing (I clearly remember eating only one), why the rest are on the ground, and why her crystal plate is now a pile of glistening glass. How do you think she will take this? Not very well right?
I hear this little chippering sound off to my left. Now I’m a bit paranoid without all the strange shit happening. Hearing chippers did not help my case. So of course I picked up a fork…yes a fork. It was the closest thing to me at the time. And trust me, forks can do damage. My big cousin once accidently stabbed with a fork. Yeah that’s a bit off topic but oh well. Back to the chippering.
So I look over to my left right, and all I see is a little ole squirrel. A squirrel. In my house. Eating a strawberry. Yeah I have now found the source of the destruction that is my mom’s expensive glass crap. So I’m all calm and collected. ANT! Wrong! I’m freaking out! A squirrel is in my house, eating my mom’s chocolate drizzled strawberry! Now normally I’m not a big ole wimp, but rodents scare the crap out of me. So I go on a rampage trying to get the squirrel out of the house. Needless to say that I didn’t catch the dang thing. But it did manage to escape just as my mom opened the front door.
So here I am, staring at my overly dull white ceiling. All I hear is a little chippering from my window. I look over and I swear to you, that same damn squirrel is laughing at me! I’m not making this up! It’s a true story! That little sneaky squirrel set me up! Try explaining that to your mom.
Needless to say, I only got six more weeks until I’m off punishment. Mom says I can come home once my time is up. Staring at white walls all day is depressing. But what can you do when your mom thinks your nuts? Speaking of nuts, keep on laughing Mr. Squirrel. Once I’m out of this place I’m gonna make a hat out of you. Wow.
I look out the window staring at the squirrel perched on the welcome sign outside my window.
‘Welcome to Milton’s Psyche Ward’ it reads. Just you wait Mr. Squirrel. You will be mine.
