New Young Authors

New Young Authors was Originally Posted on March 11, 2013 by lavarock

I receive emails and newsletters from my old High School. Having spent many years there (most of grades 6-12), I also had an opportunity to do some writing, although mine stayed mostly in the newspaper. I reserved most of my humor for the radio (which was not archived).

I saw a link in the recent newsletter that some of the students have put their writings online.

One category was “Irony” and this piece certainly qualifies. I don’t know if it is true or not, but a good story.

Irony – by Cadet Will T.

My aunt was always there for me. My mom died at my birth and my dad cracked under the pressure. He left my sister and me one night. I guess it was just too hard for him, so he left scurrying like a beetle to some far away city. As you can see, times weren’t fun. My aunt came down from Maine to stay with us; we lived in Virginia. She did everything perfectly; she cooked, she cleaned, and she drove me and my sister around, until my sister got a car, luckily. My aunt was always there for me. Every Christmas there were presents under the tree, but none were for her. I guess we, my sister and I, thought we deserved it, since we had been through so much. We took her for granted and never said thank you.

Something changed in me. It was her birthday and I just thought I should do something to seem grateful for all she did.

So, while she was at the doctors for some blood thing I decided to make her a cake; she loved sweet stuff. I’ve seen her eat a pound of Jolly Ranchers in one sitting, so a cake seemed like a good idea. My sister did the baking while I went and gathered ammunition: Gummy Bears, Twizzlers, and other various candies to add the sugary treat. Amazingly, we didn’t set the house on fire. We worked all day, obviously taking small breaks, then getting back to work; we wanted this to be perfect. We even took the time to spell out her name in Twizzlers. The cake smelled like victory, and sounded like triumph.

Walking in the door, we yelled, “Surprise!” showing her the cake.

She was so shocked and happy, because we’d usually be on the couch or something, but she was acting kind of strange.

Nobody really noticed that as a problem, so we went to dinner. During the meal we asked how the doctors went, and that’s when she started to glare at her plate, not looking at anybody.

“What?” we asked, impatiently.

“I have diabetes,” she said, staring pitifully at her cake. She could not eat one bite of our special surprise.

More stories available at: http://cptbutt2013.wikispaces.com/