Thursday, February 17, 2011

Ok. I decided to finish.

Here is all of that story.

[Insert Cool Title Here]
By Michael Boyd
Michael was a fairly normal person. As a gangly, 16 year old teenager trying to survive high school, he enjoyed weekends with the passion of seventy synchronized panda bear skydivers. In case the reader of this post does not have experience with skydiving pandas, let an experienced observer tell this individual that this is quite a bit of passion. Anyways, I digress. One Friday night, Michael returned home from a splendid birthday party totally exhausted. He slowly walked to his basement room and collapsed on his bed. As he fell asleep, the only thought that wrapped around his mind was how happy his life was.

Bang Bang Bang BANG. "Mommy look!" Bang Bang....Bang........Thump.

            These were roughly the sounds Michael heard as he abruptly entered consciousness early the next day.  He blearily looked around and sat up. The chaos upstairs sounded like his 2 year old brother was building a rocket in the living room. Michael listened harder and recalled that last night his father had given his brother a hammer, some nails, and a couple of 2 by 4's. Michael had no idea why a 2 year would need this equipment, but he did know that it was loud. And it sounded like his brother was only getting started.

             Michael grabbed at the earplugs that resided on his bedside table and efficiently put them in like only an experienced user could. He immediately dropped off into a dream. Michael dreamed of airplane bombers that had orders to blow his house into the troposphere. In reality, the snores of Michael harmonized almost impeccably with the blows from his brother's hammer.

            Three hours later, Michael Boyd awoke to find a silent house and the smell of pot stickers in the air. He wondered whether he was still dreaming. It seemed too good to be true. As Michael looked at his clock, he faintly heard sirens a far way off. The clock said 11:20 A.M. Michael got out of bed and stretched heartily. This was the sleep he had needed. Michael walked out of his room and stiffly climbed the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of Asian food was making his stomach grumble. As Michael got to the top of the stairs, he looked around.

            He had been planning to say "Hey everyone, I'm up!"

           But as Michael looked around the remnant of his kitchen, all he managed to blurt out was "hehblckshplurgh"

            The entire upper portion of his house, from the ground up, was completely obliterated. He could see the neighbor's dog looking curiously at him through was used to be his kitchen wall. All that was left was a dented, dusty refrigerator. He turned to face his living room. This was where the worst damage was. A blackened crater in the ground marked what used to be his living room. In the center of this crater was a small, worn hammer. Michael slowly walked out around the house and marveled at how little was left. Not knowing what else to do, Michael stumbled to the front door, which was miraculously still standing, tried to open it, and though it simply fell down, he went to check the mail. The dog followed him through the debris. 
            As Michael looked around he saw his neighbors staring at him. They gaped at him with thunderstruck awe. As Michael stared back, they slowly closed their blinds and became once again engulfed inside their large, whole, homes.
            The dog stared up at Michael. Michael stared at the dog. Michael noticed the dog’s name was Jerry. Michael and Jerry continued onwards. It was amazing how normal the day seemed, besides the burnt shell of a home behind them. As Michael neared the mailbox, he saw the flag was up. Jerry and Michael quickened their pace. As Michael looked in the mailbox, he saw there was only one letter in the box. Surprisingly there was no address or name on the front. Michael grabbed it and sat down on a nearby chunk of his former house.
Michael opened the letter. It read:
            Dear Michael,
If you are reading this letter, you have probably found that our house is long gone. This was my doing. I am Nathan. Your little brother. Please, do not be too surprised. For the two years I have been alive, I have learned and understood more than most children my age. For some random, divine, or perfect reason, I have been granted a mind that is far beyond the normal capacity of normal human thought. I can fluently speak French, Chinese, English, and Vulcan. I have passed college through online courses and created a well known internet identity that I use to publish scientific essays and theories. By using my intellect, I have been able to create a house that will function normally in space. After about 4 months of preparation, I put into action my plan to remodel our house into my astrohouse. This is my test flight. Hopefully you are taking this pretty well. You may be wondering where you come into my plans. See, I need someone at home to prepare the landing pad for my return. I ordered tickets to Disneyland for the rest of our family; they left as you were napping. I planned it so they thought you were flying in later this week. You are the most trusted person in my family. Last night I drugged your hot chocolate with a strong sedative so you would sleep later this morning. I will be home in approximately 3 days. After I get home, we can fly to Disneyland and our family will not suspect anything. Hopefully you are doing well, and don’t worry about me at all. I will be fine.
Michael finished the letter and it fluttered to the ground as he tried to comprehend it all. 
Jerry, his new best friend, looked up at him expectantly. Michael looked down and whispered, “Well Jerry, we have a lot of work to do.” Michael got up and walked back to his downstairs room.



  1. I like this story :) you should write more.
    Also, my brain doesn't like it that you published this post in the future.

  2. haha you really do need to write more :) i like it.

  3. I was trying to tell my blog to publish this on Thursday, but it just published it on Tuesday with the date saying Thursday.
    Maybe when I get creative again I'll start writing more...