|A Piece of the Action
||[Jun. 28th, 2005|09:35 pm]
The Writening is Upon You!
You know it's a bad sign when it's the first day of summer, your day to sleep in, and you are awoken by the most loud, irritating sound that could possibly be made at this hour, 7 AM.|
The sound reminded me of a convenience store. You walk through the door and it screeches at you to let you, and everybody else within a two-mile radius of the store, know that you have just entered said store. "Make way! It's a customer!" must be what it means in the Dreadfully Annoying Sounds language.
I glanced at my clock, briefly wondered what could make such a horrid sound, and promptly passed out again.
Soon after, it was there again. The sound. That atrocious ringing sound. "No," I muttered to myself, "I am not waking up because of some stupid... noise... thing." It was hardly difficult to convince myself of this, and thus, I was instantly asleep.
The third time I heard it, I decided it might be a good idea to drag myself out of bed an investigate. I stumbled awkwardly to the door, nearly slipping after having stepped on at least two books, and got myself out to the hallway.
The sound again.
I placed my hand against the wall and blinked a few times as the blood rushed from my head. I had to get my bearings before proceeding any further.
Having gotten over the dizziness, I continued in the direction it had come from. Slowly padding along in my pajamas, eyes barely open, I turned the corner. I swiftly (and when I say swiftly, I mean very slowly and narrowly) dodged the piano that blocked my way. There stood my mother by the front door with a screwdriver. On the wall was a small white box with a wire leading out to the door.
"Morning, hon. I just installed a door bell!"
Admittedly, it was a good thing to have. Five years in this house with no doorbell meant a lot of people knocking on the door and getting no response. But this doorbell was the spawn of Satan. "Mom..." I groaned, "It's horrible! It's loud and obnoxious."
My little brother, also the spawn of Satan, came up behind me. "Did you say obnoxious?" I glared at him wordlessly, and he pranced on up to mother. Lousy brat.
"See?" she said, demonstrating by pressing the button. I tried not to pick up something to throw at my brother.
Instead, I said, "Come on, quit it. It's 7 in the morning, that thing is loud as hell, and I want to sleep. It's summer. For SLEEPING. No more... stupid... doorbell." Spawn of Satan number 1, my brother, rang spawn of Satan number 2, the bell. I gritted my teeth and hissed, "Why do you have to keep doing that?"
He grinned sheepishly, "Aw, sis, I just wanted a piece of the action."
Inspired by the new doorbell my mother installed the morning I began writing this. (It isn't as bad as it is in this story.) Also, I'm not so sure I like it myself. The story, I mean.