No Exit

I sat upon my deep carmel shelf, overlooking the small boy's room. A thin layer of dust stretched over my small, glass body, and my painted-blak eyes scanned the room thoughtfully. I was a fish statue, won from a father-son fishing competition. My body was molded brass, the tiny detail of my scales and the lines on my flippers crafted beautifully. I observed Alex's room as i did every day: the soccer ball bed in the corner messily unmade, the simple white desk in the other corner, the piles of comic books everywhere, and the dark blue walls. Every day, i underwent ever activity that occured in this five-year old boy's bedroom, sso i knew a lot more that went on that he thought i would.

The door plastered in numerous posters of many different colors of the rainbow flung open with a crash against another layer of posters on his wall. A stormy looking Alex slumped into his chair and miserably stared at his homework. "It says to write a story," he complained. "But how do i do that? I don't know how to write a story!" I couldn't help but feel bad for Alex. He never understood how fun writing a story could be, if you added a touch of creativity. But maybe he didn't sit upon a shelf all day, so maybe he didn't know.

Alex sat and paced around his room for several long minutes. He gasped suddenly and exclaimed, "The time traveler!" Alex dashed to the closet and pulled out a battered, ripped up cardboard box and began fumbling with different crayon buttons. "I'll just go back to the future where i've already written the paper!" Then i'll take that paper and bring it back here. I won't have to do it at all! Ha!" he explained to his select imaginary friends standing curiously around him. Finally, Alex climbed into his box, pressed a few more buttons, and dissolved into thin air. He reappeared in seconds later on the other side of the room. Outside of the window, it was already dark and starry, while another Alex lied, confused, in his bed.

"What?" the Alex in bed asked.

"We came to get your homework so i can bring it back to the past and read comics!" said the other Alex, impatient. The Alex in bed looked defeated.

"I didn't do the homework because the 7:30 Alex was supposed to do it, but he didnt," he stated.

"Gah! I need it done!" cried Alex.

"Don't blame it on me. It was 7:30 Alex!" defended Alex.

"Well, I'm going back in time to 7:30 so i can make him do it!" Alex decided.

"Good idea. I'm coming with," told the other Alex. Eventually, the two climbed back into the box and set off once more. A third Alex Alex, looking agitated, appeared in the room as Alex's box entered. The three began arguing uselessly amongst themselves about who should have done the paper.

"You were supposed to do the paper, 7:30! Why didn't you?" asked the 5:00 Alex angrily.

"You're the earliest. Why didn't you do it?" 7:30 shot back.

"Because i'm the 5:00 Alex. I can't get the whole paper done in one minute! Then it would be the future already!" Alex stated.

"Well, actually, the 8:30 Alex should've gotten it done then! He's the latest! He's had it all this stupid time!" 7:30 yelled.

"Hey, hey!" 8:30 shouted. "Why are you blaming me? I had to go to bed. It's you goons who should've gotten it done before me! I'm just laying in bed there falling asleep when all of the sudden this box with an earlier me barges in..."

"I was coming to get the paper from you because I thought you would have it done! And if we're goons, then you're a dumb flamingo!"

Then, an idea hit me. I should write the paper myself! I love writing! I came up with millions of stories. I carefully climbed down from my shelf and swam through the air to the desk. Consumed by their own troubles, the Alex's didn't notice me. I gripped a pencil with difficulty because of my flippers. I thought for a minute, and began sculpting a story onto my new white paper. i wrote about how i had overseen the three Alex's travel and argue over this very paper. I wrote from my perspective; i probably had the best view in the story. When i finished soon later, i cleared my throat as loud as i could to catch the attention of the fighting boys. One of the Alex's was gripping another's shirt with a raised fist, while the other was trying to pull him off the other Alex. They looked at me in utter wonder.

"I have written a story myself for you!" I declared loudly. My voice was high and a tinge of not- being- used- in- a- while sound.

"Excellent!" the three bubbled in union. The 5:00 Alex snatched the paper first.

"Well, good-bye, I'm going back!" he cried happily. But as he waved his paper in the air, something so terribe and illusional happened. The words slid right off the paper and onto the floor like an unbalanced egg yoke. "Oh no," he gasped in horror as he watched all the letters fall into a heaping mass onto his crimson carpet.

"Now we don't have a story!" the 8:30 Alex whined, disappointed.

"And i don't even know what it said! So i can't write about it!" Alex from 5:00 griped. I cleared my throat again while picking up a new piece of paper and collecting the pencil.

"I could tell you what it said while you write it," I suggested. They each nodded, not all together, but agreeing, like a choir.

"It's a lot of work, but i'll try it" said the 5:00 Alex. So he took the paper and pencil from me and began writing rapidly as i ventured on with my story.

"HEY!" he stopped, upset. "You can't write about us writing! Everyone in class will think i'm nuts!" But he looked down at his paper in complete distress. "Not again," he whispered. But it was true: The words had vanished white into the paper as he wrote them. "HOW can i ever get this done?" he asked frantically.

A voice chimed outside the door. "Time for bed, Alex. It's 8:30," Alex's mom called. Slowly, the 7:30 and 5:00 Alex and the box were disengaging. The two lunged for the box just before it disappeared completely. With a plink it was gone, and only the 8:30 Alex was left. Quickly, i swam back to my shelf, watching Alex climb into his bed with a somber look on his face. With no paper to turn in at his bedtime, Alex was sullen.

Reviews

[Angelauthor1204]

I like the story! It was funny and so~ cool. I'm 14 too. Check my story...the Twyla Heart story! Thanks