My Last Year

Day 2, Blog 2

      The sound of our stupid rooster woke me up somewhere around 9:45AM. Drowsily, I dropped out of bed. I shuffled around, getting dressed in my slightly cluttered room and trudged down to the kitchen. No one was there.

       Grabbing a bowl and a box of Raisin Brand I got myself breakfast. Munch, munch, munch. It was so bland. So plain. I added sugar, but it still didn’t have that certain taste…I felt like I needed to know what it was that made Raisin Brand good. I mean, it was fine just the way it comes in the box; but sometimes people are looking for some zang, or pop. I added one of the fresh strawberries that Mom picked yesterday.

      It added a flavor of sweet sourness. Sort of like a sour skittle. Except not.

      The phone rang. I pushed myself out of my chair, and answered it.

      “Hello? This is Molly.”

      “Molly? Really?” a female voice heavily accented responded.

      “Yes?” I said. “And who is this?”

      “Molly! C’mon! It’s Greta!”

      Greta. The person I will never, ever forget. She used to live in town, when her parents lost their job and decided to go back to Australia where they grew up. Greta was a year older than me, with flowing black hair, giant blue eyes, and almond colored skin. She was very short, and most people thought she was 11 or 12 years old. Greta was my first friend in preschool. Almost my only friend, until she left and I was forced to make new alliances.

       “Greta! Wha—how? Hi! How are you?”

      I heard her laugh. “Oh, Molly…I met a guy. He’s really nice. Really sweet and courteous. And…he asked me out. And I said yes. But Molly, there’s only ONE person I trust to help me pick out an outfit! And that’s you!”

      “Greta, don’t forget that you’re in Australia. I’m stuck over here in the States. I’m not gonna fly over just to pick out an outfit! Sorry.”

      “Molly. Molly. Molly. Ever heard of Skype? Yeah, well, I have. And that’s the main reason I called. You need an account! It’s free and you can do it with anyone!”

      After loads of conversation and running to the computer, I finally created an account on Skype. My user name; Molly365. Yup. Pretty stupid, I know.

      She taught me how to set up my webcam and important stuff like that. At one point; when we had been on the phone for longer than an hour, I said “Greta, I sure hope you know you’re paying the bill for this one…” She shrugged it off saying she had plenty of money.

      Presently, I sat at the computer, cordless phone long forgotten and staring at the screen at my friend. She had put pink highlights in her hair and she was darker than the last time I saw her. I asked her if she was going emo. She looked at me like I’d grown rabbit ears. “No way. Sorry. I’m not like that.”

      After going through her entire wardrobe and picked out the first skirt and the third to last top that she had and a pair of pretty earrings to match her sandals.

      “Molly, I didn’t call you and Skype you just to talk about my awesome date in a few days…”

      I nodded, wondering what would be more important than a date to her.

      “I am coming to the United States in seven and a half months!” She squealed. “Eek! I can’t wait! We’re gonna have a blast! I’ll be staying for two months and am PUMPED!”

      “Really?” I said, unbelieving at first. “Are you serious? Seven months? Greta, that’s great!!”

      “I know, right? And get this, my parents asked your parents if I could stay there for a month and they said YES! Pretty sweet right?”