Alex

(Note to readers of my version of the story: I tend to use large and gargantuan words, so please find out what they mean if you don’t know what they mean, as it makes the story make more sense and adds effects I wanted.?) “Why does my phone keep going off?” I complained, befuddled.

“I guess that I should check it.”

Just so you know, I’m not a morning person. Anyways, I sprang up, grabbed my phone, and started scrolling through notifications. After reading all of my notifications, and lets be honest, playing a few games, I got up, went to the bathroom, and fixed my black hole of a mess hair. It was a long process of fixing my crazy, atramentous, convoluted hair. Some people, which includes my sister, thinks that in the morning, my hair's a rat's nest and I wholeheartedly agree with her.

I hustled down the curvilinear, cafe au lait, arduous stairs and went to the kitchen to grab the ambrosial breakfast that my mom has made ever since I was puerile and petite. Ahhh, those were the days, I remembered. I wonder how mom and dad became so contradisnict?

As I waddled like a penguin to the living room, I grabbed some exquisite orange juice from imported oranges from Florida. At least, that’s what the box said. Anyways, I plopped down on our gelatinous couch and started watching …show more content…
That was when I saw it. Actually, I should say him. The escaped convict was holding him and his mom hostage. I then started running through plans. What should I do? Should I call the cops? No, he would hear me. He probably already knows that I’m here with all that ruckus I made at the door, opening it and going through all the keys, each of them clattering on each other every time I moved. Should I try to abscond? No, he would hear the door, sprint out, and there I am, right in front of him, ripe for the picking. And then he turned around, and I ran like I had never run before. Of course, he was also