One
"You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough."
- Mae West
Eleanor?" I hear someone whisper coolly. "Eleanor Jones?" I sit up in bed. "Who's there?" I whisper back. Why am I always getting these dreams? Every night for as long as I can remember, at 2:46 A.M., I am getting these nightmares. Someone would whisper my name. I hate it. It terrifies me. I don't want anyone whispering around in my room, scaring me to death. No one does.
I sigh. I can never sleep after these dreams. Every time I closed my eyes, I would hear the voice again. I reach over to grab my flashlight. The light stings my eyes, but at least I wasn't in complete darkness.
I roll out of bed and pick up my coloring things from the ground. I jump back into bed, and start to sketch. Sketching, reading, and writing always distracted me from those dreams and the mystery of my missing father.
Once I finish, I pull out a book from my nightstand. There were so many books in there, that I would just pull one, see what it was, and read it.
I look at the book that is in my hands. 'Elements.' I love this book. Even though it was so dark and sad. I think of myself as Loralei, with fire powers. Just stuck in a world with her friends. And you can't do anything about it. I swear, I'd read this book at least six times.
I finish half of the book in two hours. The normal time was about three, for finishing half. I love it so much, I finish it in less than that time. I look over at my alarm clock. I hadn't looked at it all night, since I knew it was at least 2:46 A.M. I see the clock itself, but where are the green lights telling me the time?
The power must've gone out again. I think.
It rains a lot where I live. I live in Gulfport, Mississippi, the second-largest city in the state.
The power went out a lot because of all the rain. Sometimes, it would go out during the day, sometimes at night. I've gotten used to it, though. But it bothered me to not know what time it was.
I reach over for my laptop on my nightstand. Maybe some music and some games will distract me from my dream I think. I hook my mouse into the side. I tap on the spacebar. My screensaver of raindrops on a window pops up. I look at the top right-hand corner to see what time it is. "4:39," I say aloud. I open Slipped, a music app, and start to look for music. I immediately search Ava Levine. She is my favorite artist. I love the way she sings, too.
After thirty minutes of playing Mira, a creative building game, I get bored. I click to a new tab. I click on the search bar lightly. "Fun… Games… Free…" I say slowly as I type. I look at the results. "Abc123… That's for kids… Speed Typing. Already super fast at typing… DevTech Games. Oh, what the heck?"
I click on the link to DevTech Games, a game that someone at my old school coded. For a kid, it was actually pretty good. I look around for the hangman game. I love word games.
When I find it, I click on it immediately. Up comes a screen with a little girl walking with a basket of bread in her hands. I click the icon that reads 'MEDIUM.' I see a little girl with pigtails hiding her face with the basket because of a monster in front of her. The object of the game is to figure out the word or phrase before the monster eats all your bread.
I look at the category for the round. "Food. Okay," I said. "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _" I pause. "Always start with vowels." I look at the twenty-six letters on the screen. I type 'A.' "A_ _ _ _ _ _ _."
"Okay," I say. "It's a start." 'E' "A_ _ _E _ _E." 'I' "A_ _ _E _IE." 'O' One of the little girl's bread loaves disappears. "Suck," I groan.
'P' "APP_E PIE." "Oh! 'L!'" "APPLE PIE." The girl kicks down the monster, and then it says I've saved six loaves of bread loaves. "Yes!" I say to myself.
After a while of that, I look to see what time it is. "5:23," I sigh. I open Taken, a site with tons of shows. "What should I watch?" I say to myself. I go to the search bar at the top. "Proud Waters" I type. I click on the first episode, 'Floating'
'Proud Waters' is a show about a group of friends with elemental powers. I like it a lot, because it's not one of those corny, stupid shows that kids watch, it's actually good.
After watching the second episode, 'Moved,' I look at the time again.
"6:11."
I get out of bed to get dressed. I usually get ready for school now so I could have free-time for a while, before school started.
I pull open the doors to my closet. I pick out a steel blue colored long-sleeved shirt, black jeans with holes in the knees, and my dirty black and white sneakers. I brush my hair gingerly, and let it fall down my back into a long wavy heap, and slip in my diamond earrings.
All of a sudden, I see that my alarm clock is blinking '12:00.' "Oh, good," I say with relief. "The power's back on." I flick on the light. I make my bed, clean the almost spotless room, and flip open my laptop again.
I open my mail inbox, and look for the group message I share with my best friends, Tessa Bell and Cameron Roberts. All three of us are seventeen and have our drivers license.
earlybird.eleanor has logged on
earlybird.eleanor: Hello?
dothecamcam.123 has logged on
dothecamcam.123: Waddup?
earlybird.eleanor: Hey! You getting ready for school?
tess.the.mess has logged on
tess.the.mess: ya. i wish we went to the same skool
earlybird.eleanor: Totally.
dothecamcam.123: Gtg. Mom made toast and eggs! 😋
tess.the.mess: ya, my mom made brekfist too. C u. 👋
dothecamcam.123 has logged off
tess.the.mess has logged off
earlybird.eleanor has logged off
I hear my stomach grumble in hunger. I close my laptop, and head upstairs for breakfast. I slowly walk up the wood stairs coated with a soft carpet.
I hear the clinking of dishes in the kitchen. My mother. I rush over to see what she is making. "Morning, Eleanor," she says in an exasperated voice.
"Morning, mom," I reply. "What's for breakfast?" I ask after a few moments.
"Pancakes." she replies. I sigh.
"Why'd I even bother asking."
We'd had pancakes for the past few weeks for breakfast. Pancake mix is all we can afford. That's why I am going to a private school. This school pays you for coming. It pays you five dollars a day. I'm planning on going to this school for as long as I can. It holds grades from kindergarten to twelfth grade.
I eat my pancakes without syrup, as usual. I walk over to my mother, who has just collapsed onto the couch, rubbing her temples. "Bye mom, I gotta catch the bus," I say as I hug her. "Okay," she says as I slip on my black rain jacket and black backpack. "I love you, Eleanor." But I'm out the door.