hadal
Member
So who wants to read a somewhat cringey story I wrote when I was 10 years old? I don't think it's that bad, considering I was 10, but I thought it'd be fun to share. Also, post your own old and cringey stories! They're always fun to read lol.
Anyways, here it is:
Kinda’ Odd
Chapter 1
“Yeah, okay, I’m a nerd, I get it,” I quietly mumble to myself under my breath. My voice shakes with every word and I nearly trip over my own two feet.
“Amber, kick the ball!” One girl, Blake shouts at me, making my spine quiver. I’m not a soccer star I admit to myself in my mind. I try to multitask; though can I get lost in my thoughts and duck all the flying soccer balls pelting all the losers during a game of super soccer? Super soccer is a game we play at P.E. that consists of many soccer balls, ew.
I really need to pull my P.E. grade up, I think to myself as I slowly trudge down the hallway of my Connecticut school. In all my other classes I get straight A’s, P.E. though, a F. It would be nice if I could take independent P.E. if I did any other sports, but I’m not interested in sports.
With a long sigh I fall into my wooden chair for history. This was my last class of the day and despite my love of school, I wanted to get home. As usual, I’d have to take the bus, but the ride home was only about 15 minutes.
Mr. Green, my history teacher walked in and I focused my full attention on the large man.While he wrote something on the white board I easily steadied my thick framed glasses to my eyes and pushed back a lock of my thick brown hair. My upper and bottom lip hid my clear colored braces, and my seemingly gross fingernails were gone over with a shade of dark purple. The colors lit up my pale fingers as they tapped furiously against the dull desk. Today my mind drifted away from any work my 8th grade history teacher taught the class. In a way, it felt comforting to not have my full attention on school.
Autumn leaves of many different colors loudly crunched underneath my worn out pair of hiking boots as I approached the front door of my house. “Home!” I shouted as soon as I stepped inside. Slowly, I knelt down to the hard wood floor to pull off my hiking boots. Right after I headed to my room to read Harry Potter 7, but my mother Anne stopped me in mid-step up the stairs.
“Hon, I found something for you to do,” she said anxiously, and stared at me gleefully.
“What?” I growled, “I want to read my book.”
“I know, I know,” she raised her hands up in defense, “But I think you should try gymnastics!” she had a hopeful expression on her face.
“Gymnastics! What? No. Ew,” I sped through my sentence, “I can’t do that,” I paused, “I’ll get like, killed!” With that I ran up the stairs and slammed my door behind my mom. At least it’s Friday I thought.
Chapter 2
The next morning my mom woke me up bright and early, nine o’ clock.
“What’s the deal?” I lazily grumbled.
“Gymnastics!” she exclaimed.
“What? No!” I shot up to a sitting position and looked my mom straight in her eyes. “I don’t want to!” I complained.
“C’mon, get up,” she waved me out of bed. Listening, I did as told.
Later in the morning I slipped on my mom’s old leotard. It was a bit big on me, but I guess I wasn’t as “built up” as she was.
The car ride over was nauseating and when we got to the gym, I wasn’t very comforted. This place was intimidating. My coaches name was Coach Ryhe, and he seemed kind of tough. We started with simple stretches and I was barely able to reach my calves when asked to touch my toes. Believe it or not, the day got harder. We had to do summer salts and I cracked my back. For the rest of practice I was in pain.
At first I really hated gymnastics, but as months wore on, I learned to love it. I got stronger and even moved up a level. I think I am the best gymnast in my level. It feels better now that I’ve got more of a life and am cooler in school. I still suck at soccer, but at least when the kids make fun of me, I’ll be able to beat them up soon. I have to wrap this up soon, but that’s a short (very short) story or summary of the past few months of my life. Once I was the dork, now I am the gymnast.
Anyways, here it is:
Kinda’ Odd
Chapter 1
“Yeah, okay, I’m a nerd, I get it,” I quietly mumble to myself under my breath. My voice shakes with every word and I nearly trip over my own two feet.
“Amber, kick the ball!” One girl, Blake shouts at me, making my spine quiver. I’m not a soccer star I admit to myself in my mind. I try to multitask; though can I get lost in my thoughts and duck all the flying soccer balls pelting all the losers during a game of super soccer? Super soccer is a game we play at P.E. that consists of many soccer balls, ew.
I really need to pull my P.E. grade up, I think to myself as I slowly trudge down the hallway of my Connecticut school. In all my other classes I get straight A’s, P.E. though, a F. It would be nice if I could take independent P.E. if I did any other sports, but I’m not interested in sports.
With a long sigh I fall into my wooden chair for history. This was my last class of the day and despite my love of school, I wanted to get home. As usual, I’d have to take the bus, but the ride home was only about 15 minutes.
Mr. Green, my history teacher walked in and I focused my full attention on the large man.While he wrote something on the white board I easily steadied my thick framed glasses to my eyes and pushed back a lock of my thick brown hair. My upper and bottom lip hid my clear colored braces, and my seemingly gross fingernails were gone over with a shade of dark purple. The colors lit up my pale fingers as they tapped furiously against the dull desk. Today my mind drifted away from any work my 8th grade history teacher taught the class. In a way, it felt comforting to not have my full attention on school.
Autumn leaves of many different colors loudly crunched underneath my worn out pair of hiking boots as I approached the front door of my house. “Home!” I shouted as soon as I stepped inside. Slowly, I knelt down to the hard wood floor to pull off my hiking boots. Right after I headed to my room to read Harry Potter 7, but my mother Anne stopped me in mid-step up the stairs.
“Hon, I found something for you to do,” she said anxiously, and stared at me gleefully.
“What?” I growled, “I want to read my book.”
“I know, I know,” she raised her hands up in defense, “But I think you should try gymnastics!” she had a hopeful expression on her face.
“Gymnastics! What? No. Ew,” I sped through my sentence, “I can’t do that,” I paused, “I’ll get like, killed!” With that I ran up the stairs and slammed my door behind my mom. At least it’s Friday I thought.
Chapter 2
The next morning my mom woke me up bright and early, nine o’ clock.
“What’s the deal?” I lazily grumbled.
“Gymnastics!” she exclaimed.
“What? No!” I shot up to a sitting position and looked my mom straight in her eyes. “I don’t want to!” I complained.
“C’mon, get up,” she waved me out of bed. Listening, I did as told.
Later in the morning I slipped on my mom’s old leotard. It was a bit big on me, but I guess I wasn’t as “built up” as she was.
The car ride over was nauseating and when we got to the gym, I wasn’t very comforted. This place was intimidating. My coaches name was Coach Ryhe, and he seemed kind of tough. We started with simple stretches and I was barely able to reach my calves when asked to touch my toes. Believe it or not, the day got harder. We had to do summer salts and I cracked my back. For the rest of practice I was in pain.
At first I really hated gymnastics, but as months wore on, I learned to love it. I got stronger and even moved up a level. I think I am the best gymnast in my level. It feels better now that I’ve got more of a life and am cooler in school. I still suck at soccer, but at least when the kids make fun of me, I’ll be able to beat them up soon. I have to wrap this up soon, but that’s a short (very short) story or summary of the past few months of my life. Once I was the dork, now I am the gymnast.
