by Jimmy CHEN

I am Jim­my Chen moth­er and dont write eng­lish re­al­ly good, as you will have to for­give me. Jim­my ran away from home to­day af­ter I smack him for com­plain­ing about no Dolito cool raunch chips again. I take him to save­way all the time for nightquil and Dolito cool raunch chips and he eats both of them so quick and al­ways wants more. His friend Neer­aj now sit­ting on his bed look­ing at his tapes. I ask him come over to help me look for my son. Neer­aj is nice boy, but he play­ing the song “girls, girls, girls” by Mol­ly Crew re­al­ly loud. Neer­aj say Jim­my prob­a­bly rode his bike to Michelle’s house and hide in her side yard. Jim­my likes Michelle very much, he wrote her name many times on his chair us­ing my nail pol­ish. I am writ­ing this for Jim­my’s eng­lish class as­sign­ment to writ­ing a short sto­ry that is cre­ative. I hope this can be the sto­ry and is cre­ative. I have hard time to mak­ing up a sto­ry out of my head. I first try to write about a tur­tle who died when I was girl but that sto­ry is re­al. When its re­al its called none-fic­tion. This sto­ry about Jim­my run­ning away again is al­so none-fic­tion and I wor­ried Jim­my will get an F on this as­sign­ment, but I hope not Mrs. Kalanack. I re­mem­ber your name be­cause for teacher’s day I bought you Chanel per­fume. Do you like it? I hope you like it. I did­n’t buy you lo­tion be­cause your skin is al­ready so soft. Jim­my’s fa­ther says I am “pas­sive ag­gres­sive” but I do not know those word’s mean­ings. I’m just say­ing I hope you like this sto­ry that is cre­ative about my son who I don’t know where he is right now. Jim­my’s fa­ther is asleep in front of TV now but I can’t turn down vol­ume or else he will wake up. He likes to watch CNN news re­al­ly loud and yell. Mol­ly Crew is re­al­ly loud too so my head is con­fused by all this loud. When Jim­my watch­es Mol­ly Crew videos I feel I can smell their bad smell. His fa­ther give him ten dol­lars a month and he use all his mon­ey on cas­sette tapes. I just got back from phone. I can’t find the pen so now I am us­ing this pen­cil. Michelle’s moth­er call and say Jim­my is in side yard again hid­ing in the bush­es un­der her win­dow. I am very hap­py my son is okay. When he was a ba­by he had py­loric prob­lem in stom­ach and al­most died. I cry when I think of that. I need to go now to dri­ve Neer­aj home and pick my son up. I un­der­stand if you don’t give him and A for this sto­ry be­cause he did­n’t write it and its none-fic­tion. But please give him a B though be­cause he needs to go to nice col­lege so he can have good ca­reer. Thank you Mrs. Kalanack, you prob­a­bly smell very nice.

Filed under Fiction on October 26th, 2009

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