Caroline+C.

(A/N: Line breaks indicate the starting and ending of a piece.)

Late

December 24th, 1949

"ARTHUR!"

"Mommy!

I pounded down the deck of the ship toward my small son, salt water spraying in my eyes and nose from the sky-high wave that was threatening to engulf the large cruise ship. Rain poured in buckets, thunder roared, lightning crackled. The ship was bucking and tipping like a bronco on espresso. This was supposed to be a fun Christmas cruise, but it was turning out to be the worst nightmare of my life. But- wait. This WAS a nightmare. This had to be. I, Caroline Carter, was dreaming. If this was really happening, then I wouldn't feel so detached. And, most importantly, I would be wet.

CRASH!!

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

My eyes open very slowly, reluctant to let go of sleep. I, like my grandma, am //not a// morning person, but I know I have to get up. I don't like it if I sleep in too late, because I get cranky at all the time I wasted by sleeping. Laughing at this quirk, I tumble out of bed, stretch, and look at the clock. 8:28 AM. Ah, plenty of time to take a much-needed shower, check my email, maybe check for updates on my favorite fanfiction, and all before noon. I can't wait for the workshop today, either. Wait, WHAT? W-workshop?!?!? It starts in two minutes! I scramble into my typical black attire (I swear, I'm the seventh grade Grim Reaper sometimes, unfortunately without a scythe), brush my hair and teeth, wash my face, and zoom out the door. I don't even have enough time to say goodbye to my beloved cat, or turn out the lights.  Swearing like a sailor at my stupidity, I walk (I don't have the energy or muscle strength to sprint, so what?) down to Broadway. And off I go along my long, sweaty journey, talking to myself like a deranged person.

"For heaven’s sake, you are a complete and total idiot! You don't even like sleeping in past eight in the morning, and here you go, on the morning where you actually need to go somewhere, you sleep in almost half an hour past. You are late, you lazybutt! Learn to be responsible!

That's the other side of my mind, who for our purposes today is nicknamed Hannah. It acts like it's my big sister or something, always nagging me and calling me names. It tells me when I have to go to sleep, and when I have to wake up. It reminds me that I have to eat something other than chocolate cake and quesadillas, and that I should do my homework instead of watching that Samurai X OVA that I've been dying to see (again). In short, I don't really like that side of my brain. I prefer the other half, which doesn't really care what I do, as long as I have fun doing it.

But this time, the "cool" side decides to listen the responsible side. Whenever that happens, I know I've done something to get me into really hot water. I contemplate my fate as I trudge past Get Nailed, the local piercing parlor. The fun side (we'll call her Ashlie) is going into worry mode. "Man, I bet Ms. Bernabei's totally going to slay us with an axe when we come in 20 minutes late, eh?"

"Ashlie," sighs an exasperated Hannah, "She is most definitely NOT going to slay us with an axe. Axes are not allowed on school property, and she couldn't pass it off as a writing tool to smuggle it into the building. No, Ashlie, she won't decapitate us with an axe."

"Maybe she'll stab our eyes out with pencils, yeah? I think those are totally allowed!"

"Of course pencils are allowed //in a school. // But why do I get the feeling that you're getting excited about this?"

Sometimes I wish my brain would just shut up.

(Now would be a great time, you know?) Hannah and Ashlie are seriously making me nervous. The heat and cars and noise aren't really helping my mood, either. It seems like I'm getting a few blisters on my toes, too. Why, dear Lord, did I choose to wear bedroom slippers today?!

I keep trudging along, sweat rolling down my nose. The sun beats down on my back, and I really need a shower. This is not turning out to be the best day ever. However, I perservere, crossing streets and dodging cars. After about ten minutes, I arrive at the high school.

(A/N: I do not plan to finish this, by the way.)