by The Rooster on June 2, 2010
o you guys wanna go swimming?” Fezic asked in a sweet and tender voice.
I looked at Elizabeth, shocked. Was this little girl just mislabeled? Did she really have turrets? She hadn’t spewed out any curse words. Except for the occasional popping sound she made with her lips, she seemed like all the other 11 year-olds in the world.
“We’d love to,” Elizabeth said, smiling like Mother Teresa.
Just then a small, long furred white Pomeranian happily bounced into the room. It was their pet dog Cookie. Cookie was no bigger than a football. She barked with spirit at the arrival of new guests. She ran in circles around our feet, hopping and wagging her little tail.
“Well, who is this little cutie?” Elizabeth asked as she bent over to pet it.
“Shut the FUCK up Cookie, or I’ll break your FUCKIN’ paws off!” Fezic roared. [click to continue…]
by The Rooster on May 27, 2010
had 5 months to save up as much money as possible before I got on a plane and headed to Spain to discover myself. I was living in Los Angeles and serving tables but was willing to turn tricks in order to rack up a few extra dollars. So when I was offered a babysitting gig that paid 20 dollars an hour, I was quick to jump on the offer. Even though Dad always hated any of his children babysitting, he feared that in this day and age kids cried molestation in order to get attention, I ignored the threat and focused more on the money. Little did I know that the roles would soon be reversed and the baby would be the one molesting the sitter. I was sure that this was one scenario the girls of the Babysitters Club only dreamed of. [click to continue…]
by The Rooster on May 23, 2010
y teacher went around the room asking each student when their birthday was. As she made her way towards me, I felt my mouth dry up.
“Jim,” Mrs. East said. “When is your birthday?”
“Uhhh…” I mumbled nervously. It was a simple question that every 5th grader should know the answer to. It’s the most important day of the year as a kid. Ten times better than Christmas. Not only did you get presents but you didn’t have to share the spotlight with the Baby Jesus, or your brother who got the same pair of burgundy sweats. It was a day to celebrate you, and you alone!
But I wasn’t sure of the answer. I pretended to look through my desk. Ruffling through papers, I hoped that she’d just skip over me. I felt the entire class staring at me as I hid my head in my cubby hole. [click to continue…]
