Anna Creswell (Monday)

Monday

It was summer, and I was in my room planning what I was doing for the holiday. Suddenly, my door flung open to reveal the most annoying person ever, my sister Rosie. She marched into my room, sat on the nearest chair, helped herself to my special biscuits and milk on a table, plopped her legs on my special couch and grinned from ear to ear. I yanked the biscuits away from her; as for the milk, it was long gone, “What do you want?” I sighed. Rosie stood up and paced around the room like she was trying to remember a battle plan. Finally, she said, “I need your help.” Had I heard right? Rosie needed my help! I stared at her as if her head just fell off. I couldn’t speak.

Luckily, I didn’t have to. “ANNA, GET DOWN HERE! “I glanced at Rosie, and she gave me a sinister look. I went down the stairs as slowly as possible until I got downstairs. Mum and Dad stood in the living room. “How could you?” Mum asked. “Huh?” I wondered. How could I what? Mum picked something up. It was a chicken bone. Why was I called down here because of a chicken bone?  I rolled my eyes: This was obviously one of Rosie's antics.  “Anna, I’m talking to you. That is disrespectful!”  

“Sorry,” I muttered, I couldn’t believe I was getting moaned at when I did absolutely nothing. I stared at my feet while Mum ranted on and on about a CHICKEN BONE!  

“You can go now,” She finished. 

“Yes!” I whispered. I turned and started going up to my room. 

“Oh, and Anna, you’re grounded. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around, 

“I’m what?”

“Grounded.”

I dragged myself up to my room and immediately started drawing a picture of Rosie. I then stuck it to my wall before creeping down the hall into Mum and Dad’s room and “borrowing” their darts before tiptoeing back. I stood in the middle of my room and pointed the dart at Rosie (well, the picture of her; I don’t think Mum and Dad would like it if I impaled their youngest daughter) before throwing it and following its movements. It landed squarely in the middle of her face - her nose. I laughed and, with a start, remembered Rosie was eating lunch. Before leaving, I snuck into her room and took anything and everything, her teddies, snacks, and sweets. I quickly gobbled them up - not the teddies, of course - because I knew if Mum found out, she would tell me to return them, and I didn’t want to. I knew it was only three, but I was tired and wanted to sleep and dream of attacking Rosie. I think I’ll rewatch Dexter and find out a few more murder techniques. Winky face Winky face… Not!