Memoirs of a teenage millionaire, chapter 3
Memoirs of a teenage millionaire, chapter 3 writing stories
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thesmartwriter
thesmartwriterAchievements: Bookaholic, okay writer
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Chapter Three 8:27 am, November 11th, 2016

Memoirs of a teenage millionaire, chapter 3

Chapter Three

8:27 am, November 11th, 2016

After being forcefully awoken by my mom and reviving over a hot bowl of oatmeal, I am ready to face this grim day.

I throw on a pair of jeans and my Grammatical Errors are a sin shirt, that Cassandra got me for Christmas. Good enough, I decide.

I pack some items; my favourite notebook, a variety of pens to choose from, my phone,

earbuds and a book I've been meaning to finish (in cause I'm able to sneak away from my little cousins for a few minutes.

“We're leaving in five minutes!” My mother shouts up the stairs.

I hurry down the stairs and jump in the car. I remember from previous trips to Aunt Breatice’s house that it's over a half and hour drive there.

So, I pulled out a book to enjoy the last moments of peace and quiet I'm going to get all day.

Thirty minutes and three book chapters later, the family car pulls up in front of a tan house with toys strewn on the lawn outside.

I get out of the car and follow my parents up to the violently red door of 4568 Falls street, aka the official Perez family gathering location.

My dad knocks on the door and it opens half a second later, to reveal that no one is standing there. I internally sigh.

There's a 100% that my little cousin, Joseph, Benjamin, whatever- I can't remember all of my eighteen cousins’ names; is behind the door,

thinking that we're going to fall for it even though it's the five hundredth time he's pulled this prank.

Sure enough, the door is pulled open even wider and the smiling, angelic face of one of my cousins peeks around the other side of the door.

“Oh, you totally got us!” In his ‘excited parent’ voice. “Give me a hug!”

And I am practically shoved into my Auntie’s house. The arms of half a dozen of my closest relatives-through blood, not relativity, engulfed me.

After fighting my way through the arms and questioning of my relatives, I sought to find a quieter place to recharge my social battery.

I walk down the carpeted hallway and glance into the sitting room there. My eldest cousin, Adam, is sitting on the sofa in there, headphones in his ears and eyes glued to his phone.

He looks up briefly as I sit down in he chair farthest from him. We make forced eye contact for half a second and both glance away quickly, pretending that it didn't happen.

I don't think Adam and I have exchanged any form of conversation other than “hi Aliena and “goodbye Adam“, etc.

I pull out my chapter outline on my phone. It's rough, because I can never write down all the nitty gritty details of a piece of writing and still make it seem interesting.

I've still got over eight hundred words of the chapter that is supposed to be completed by now, for Monday.

I like to pretend that I get burnt out on writing sometimes and just can't find the creative spirit to finish, but really happened last night is I just got caught up on the internet.

I'm just sixty words away from my word count when all my cousins start running into the room like a herd of elephants. Oh well, I knew that they would roam all around the house.

I get up and tuck my notebook and bag behind the chair out of sight from my Auntie’s huge dog and my little cousins eyes.

I head back into the family room, to where all the adults are either talking about work, their kids and all the mistakes their kids have ever made. Then, it's time to eat.

I sit at a table with my obnoxious cousins and watch them throw food at each other and eat my plate of food as fast as possible.

Then, I head back to the sitting room to write some more. Adam is still sitting there on his phone.

After three hours and a half a chapter done later, my parents were finally ready to go home.

That afternoon, I sealed my bedroom door and swore an oath that I wouldn't leave until I typed up all fifteen pages of writing I had done earlier in the day.

I finally stopped when my wrists were aching and my tired eyes were hurting from the harsh glare from the computer screen, because of the lights I had not turned on and badly needed a while ago.

I picked up my phone, got up from my desk and flung myself on my bed and pull the grey covers over me.

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