For my favourite writer: John Green.
My apologies if it is not good enough, I have tried so hard to be as wonderful and inspirational as you.
Day 1
The day before I left California to go to a boarding school in Alabama, I had begged my parents not to send me but they did anyway. My dad, James Austin, was a business man and he was rarely home and my mother, Maria Austin, was a flight attendant so she was rarely home as well. I have no brothers and no sisters so most of the time, I spent talking to myself at home.
My parents decided to send me to a boarding school because they thought that I would be less lonely there and at least this time, I’d have real friends. I told them the night before that I was fine alone with the seven different nannies that they left me with every week. Even though I begged them a million times, the answer were always “you have to go. It’s better there, you can at least focus on your learning better.”
As if I wasn’t already an A grader. No one ever listens to me so I had to agree even though I seriously do not wish to go. “Mike!” mom shouted from downstairs. My luggage was already packed so as I stumble down the stairs carrying the big trunk, mom shouted again. I groaned and yelled back,
“I’m coming! At least get dad to help me, this thing is heavy.”
So, my dad came to the stairs and helped me. All of my books are already inside big cardboard boxes along with a couple of other things that my mom think would be necessary. “Open one of those boxes.” My dad smiled and nod his head towards the box left opened. So I did what he said, I peeked inside the box and found a little box in a rectangular shape, wrapped in a red wrapping paper.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Just a little something for you,” my dad said eager for me to open the perfectly wrapped present. Slowly, I ripped open the paper and open the box. Inside it, I found a brand new, red army knife. My eyes widened and I was speechless. I had been bugging my parents to get me the knife last Christmas but they never did. Instead, I got yet another kiddie toy. I swear, my parents still think that I’m a child. I raised my eyebrows confusingly.
“What’s this for? I thought I was too young for this,” I said sarcastically. Dad paid no attention to my sarcasm and took the boxes and arranged them in the car. He got in the SUV and start the engine, my mom was already sitting in the front seat. I was startled when my dad honked the car asking me to hurry up. I quickly put the ripped paper and the box in my backpack, sped up my pace, shut the white wooden door behind me and entered the vehicle.
“Ready?” mom asked.
I closed the door and sighed, “Ready.”
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