Yet again, this is a story I wrote as an assignment in yearbook class. We had to cut out a picture and write a story about it. I got a cruise ship. So I came up with the idea of having this klutzy girl go on vaction, meet a cute boy, and almost die! XD
Things tend to happen to me a lot. Mainly because I'm such a klutz. For example, when I was seven, I was running around at my brother's ninth birthday party. It was monkey themed, and I accidentally slipped on a banana peel (yes, how classic). I lost my balance and face-planted into the ice cream cake.
Or there was the time five years ago when I was ten and was playing tag with a bunch of kids from the neighborhood at the park. I had glanced behind me to see if the kid that was 'it' was gaining on me and BAM! I ran into a tree. And got a concussion. And the world's biggest bruise.
So you can't really blame me for being nervous about my family's big vacation. Lots of things can go wrong on a cruise. Take the Titanic for example. I don't want to drown!
I don't know why my parents picked the cruise. I mean, what's wrong with Disney World? Or the beach? I'm pretty sure that I can't hurt myself that badly if we went there. Plus, I promised my parents that we wouldn't have another Yellowstone-like vacation.
Meaning I ended up with a broken leg and a black eye when we visited the national park. Yeah, I kind of fell over the railing at the Old Faithful Inn. And got too close to a baby buffalo.
You know, maybe my family should just go on vacations without me. They'd have much more fun.
Yes, I'm that danger prone.
"Kara, we're boarding now," my mom hollers at me. Oh great. The torture begins.
And humiliation. My mom picked out these 'cute' outfits for the four of us to wear on the first day of the cruise. My dad and brother at least have decent outfits. Khaki shorts and blue floral button-up shirts. Mom and I, on the other hand, have dresses. Yes, shoot me now. My own mother is forcing me into a spaghetti strap sun dress that's the same pattern as the guys' shirts. And I hate dresses. With a burning passion.
I flinch and grab my suitcase. The crowd jostles me around a bit as we fight our way to the huge boat.
This cannot be happening to me. I am so going to die on this vacation. I just know it.
"Smile, we're on vacation," Mom encourages me.
"Exactly. We're on vacation," I mutter and climb aboard. The ship is pretty big. And it has a pool with a waterslide. Maybe this won't be so bad.
Wait. Who am I kidding? I am going to die!
"Come on, everyone," Dad calls. We shuffle down a staircase and after making our way down a brightly lit hallway, we find our room.
"Oh, this is so exciting!" My mom sighs and plops onto one of the king size beds.
I toss my suitcase onto the bed that I have to share with my nasty older brother and push open the doors that lead onto our personal balcony.
The ocean breeze instantly hits me. It actually smells pretty good. Salty, but good. My annoying dress flaps in the wind along with my light brown hair.
"Do you think we'll see any dolphins?" I ask my family.
"Well, ye-Dustin, enough with the Eminem!" Dad suddenly yells at my brother. Dustin reluctantly turns down his iPod.
"Yes, please kill the rap." I turn back toward the ocean. The waves are slowly turning white and breaking every now and then.
This is nice. Maybe I won't die if I just stay cooped up in our room for the entire trip. But that might not always work. Mom will probably drag me off of the ship when we hit the Caribbean.
Something suddenly hits my arm and then Eminem starts screaming all of his problems right into my ear.
"GAH!" I yank at Dustin's headphones and (guess what?) almost trip over the balcony's railing.
"Dustin!" Mom marches out onto the balcony to give him another lecture about how he shouldn't ruin this vacation. Yeah, that's the klutz's job.
I squeeze back inside the room and collapse onto a bed.
"You okay, kiddo?" Dad glances at me over the top of his NASCAR Illustrated.
"Yeah," I roll over, "but at this rate, I'll be toothless by morning."
He chuckles. We'll see who's laughing when my prediction comes true.
I flick on the 40 inch TV that's right by our room's bathroom and start to surf channels. Science Channel, no. Cartoon Network, ew. The news, wow, not going to happen. Hate that show, commercial, lame, in Spanish, commercial… Oh! Harry Potter marathon!
"Of course." Dad notices my choice. Mom walks in from grilling Dustin about the dangers of pranking and continues to unpack.
"Hey Mom, when are we going to do something?" Dustin joins me on the bed.
"Well, the ship hasn't even left yet, so a while," my dad pipes up. Dustin groans and fiddles with his iPod.
This is going to be a long trip.