Post by Cujo - Jaydn - Kurt on Sept 17, 2008 15:44:41 GMT -6
//Okay, this is just what I have. Feel free to leave comments and such, but please don't say anything like 'This is stupid, why are you writing it'. It's my story, and I can write whatever the heck I want. Deal with it.//
[Kurt:]
I pulled my tunic over my head, sighing as I realized that this one, like all my other ones, was too small. I picked up the small knife sitting on the small table next to my bed and cut off the bottoms of my pants, which were also too small for me. I glanced over at my younger brother, Cujo, and wished that I could have my own room. I knew us getting another house or even being able to afford to add another room onto our house now was extremely unlikely. We were in Sayale, but only barely. Only because Mother had gotten a job at the palace, taking care of the young princess. I set the knife back on the table, underneath the book that father gave me for my birthday; I didn’t want Cujo to find it and hurt himself.
After I set the book so the knife couldn’t be seen, I picked up the scraps of cloth from the floor and headed out towards the main room. I could hear my parents murmuring quietly to one another; I caught the end of their conversation.
“. . . when they need new clothes?”
“I’m not earning enough. We’ll hardly have enough for bread and cheese; we can’t waste money on buying cloth and thread.” My Mother paused. I froze just on the other side of the door, suddenly nervous. Not enough money to buy new clothes? I turned and tossed the scraps into my bedroom; they landed on the floor and slid halfway under my bed. When I returned to where I had been standing before, my Mother spoke again. “We’ll have to make due with bread and cheese for a while. Until you find another job; it won’t be too long. Cujo will just have to wear what doesn’t fit Kurt. I’m not sure what we’ll do when Kurt needs new clothes; he may have to make due with what he has.”
I turned and threw the scraps of cloth back into my room; they slid across the floor and stopped halfway underneath my bed. I didn’t want my Mother and Father to see that my clothes were getting too small; they’d only worry more. I didn’t like when my parents worried; when they did, they stopped smiling and playing games. It was like life stopped completely, and we were frozen in time while everyone around us kept on going. I tugged at my shirt and looked at myself in the mirror hanging in the hall. ‘It doesn’t look too small if I slouch my shoulders,’ I thought, trying to make the shirt look like it still fit me.
After I was sure that they were finished talking and my shirt didn’t look too tight, I walked into the main room and over to my Mother. “Morning,” I said, hugging her.
“Hello, dear,” she said, hugging me back. She looked over my shoulder and said, “Good morning, Cujo!” I turned to see him standing in the doorway, holding the stuffed bear he’d been given for his birthday two years ago by the paw.
He yawned and rubbed his eye with his free hand and walked over to our Mother, dragging the scruffy bear with him, and crawled into her lap. She ruffled his hair, sending his already mussed brown locks into even more disarray.
I slipped into the chair between my Father and Mother. “Kurt, would you like to come to work with me today?” I looked at Mother. She had to be kidding; she worked at the palace! “The princess wants to meet you.” Why would the princess want to meet me? I was just a middle-class boy; there’s no way she could have a need for a seven-year-old who could hardly read and who was so much lower than her in social status.
“Why does Princess Saya want to see me?” I managed to ask.
“I’ve just talked about both of my wonderful boys,” she replied, hugging Cujo. “The princess wants to play with you. The king told me to bring you today so you two could have fun.”
“Oh.” I still didn’t understand why she wanted to play with me; Cujo was much closer to her age than I was. He was only a year older than the four-year-old princess.
“You had better go wash up,” Father said, gesturing towards the washroom.
I nodded and hopped up out of my chair. As I walked across the floor my toe caught on the rug and I stumbled forward. I was able to catch myself before I hit the floor, but it was close. My father laughed and told me to be careful.
I washed my hands and face quickly, knowing Mother would have to leave soon. Back in the main room I sat in my place at the table. Cujo was across from me now, munching on a small piece of bread.
[Kurt:]
I pulled my tunic over my head, sighing as I realized that this one, like all my other ones, was too small. I picked up the small knife sitting on the small table next to my bed and cut off the bottoms of my pants, which were also too small for me. I glanced over at my younger brother, Cujo, and wished that I could have my own room. I knew us getting another house or even being able to afford to add another room onto our house now was extremely unlikely. We were in Sayale, but only barely. Only because Mother had gotten a job at the palace, taking care of the young princess. I set the knife back on the table, underneath the book that father gave me for my birthday; I didn’t want Cujo to find it and hurt himself.
After I set the book so the knife couldn’t be seen, I picked up the scraps of cloth from the floor and headed out towards the main room. I could hear my parents murmuring quietly to one another; I caught the end of their conversation.
“. . . when they need new clothes?”
“I’m not earning enough. We’ll hardly have enough for bread and cheese; we can’t waste money on buying cloth and thread.” My Mother paused. I froze just on the other side of the door, suddenly nervous. Not enough money to buy new clothes? I turned and tossed the scraps into my bedroom; they landed on the floor and slid halfway under my bed. When I returned to where I had been standing before, my Mother spoke again. “We’ll have to make due with bread and cheese for a while. Until you find another job; it won’t be too long. Cujo will just have to wear what doesn’t fit Kurt. I’m not sure what we’ll do when Kurt needs new clothes; he may have to make due with what he has.”
I turned and threw the scraps of cloth back into my room; they slid across the floor and stopped halfway underneath my bed. I didn’t want my Mother and Father to see that my clothes were getting too small; they’d only worry more. I didn’t like when my parents worried; when they did, they stopped smiling and playing games. It was like life stopped completely, and we were frozen in time while everyone around us kept on going. I tugged at my shirt and looked at myself in the mirror hanging in the hall. ‘It doesn’t look too small if I slouch my shoulders,’ I thought, trying to make the shirt look like it still fit me.
After I was sure that they were finished talking and my shirt didn’t look too tight, I walked into the main room and over to my Mother. “Morning,” I said, hugging her.
“Hello, dear,” she said, hugging me back. She looked over my shoulder and said, “Good morning, Cujo!” I turned to see him standing in the doorway, holding the stuffed bear he’d been given for his birthday two years ago by the paw.
He yawned and rubbed his eye with his free hand and walked over to our Mother, dragging the scruffy bear with him, and crawled into her lap. She ruffled his hair, sending his already mussed brown locks into even more disarray.
I slipped into the chair between my Father and Mother. “Kurt, would you like to come to work with me today?” I looked at Mother. She had to be kidding; she worked at the palace! “The princess wants to meet you.” Why would the princess want to meet me? I was just a middle-class boy; there’s no way she could have a need for a seven-year-old who could hardly read and who was so much lower than her in social status.
“Why does Princess Saya want to see me?” I managed to ask.
“I’ve just talked about both of my wonderful boys,” she replied, hugging Cujo. “The princess wants to play with you. The king told me to bring you today so you two could have fun.”
“Oh.” I still didn’t understand why she wanted to play with me; Cujo was much closer to her age than I was. He was only a year older than the four-year-old princess.
“You had better go wash up,” Father said, gesturing towards the washroom.
I nodded and hopped up out of my chair. As I walked across the floor my toe caught on the rug and I stumbled forward. I was able to catch myself before I hit the floor, but it was close. My father laughed and told me to be careful.
I washed my hands and face quickly, knowing Mother would have to leave soon. Back in the main room I sat in my place at the table. Cujo was across from me now, munching on a small piece of bread.
