meanwhile story 2

8/14/2019 Meanwhile Story 2

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Meanwhile

By Mariah Neuhauser

Hour 1

Buzz!

"Who? What? Where?" I questioned as my mind still had yet to recognize the

fatal breaking of silence that the alarm clock brought to my sounded sleep. Sometimes I

wished that it could be energizing music, filling my mind with bliss while eroding my

predawn melancholy thoughts.

I hurriedly got dressed and ready for just another day in the life of myself. I

scampered up the stairs to the non-angelic noise of my parents arguing with my brother

about not doing his homework.

"What else is new?" I thought to myself.

I chowed down on my used-to-be-scrumptious-but-now-it's-all-cold-and-clammy

scrambled eggs. I ate as the chorus of nonstop yelling continued. I could care less as this

would be one of the most important days of my teenage life - I actually smiled, for

reasons unknown.

"Let's get ready to rumble!" My mom cheered as she went to start the car in her

usual morning apparel, dawning bed-head, comfy slippers, and toasty pajamas.

All three of us - my mom, brother, and myself - scrambled into the car, late as

usual, like the scrambled eggs that used to be on my plate.

The fog invaded the air above as we drove along the icy roads of "Winter

Wonderland." Only a small fraction of water on the lake ahead of us never froze. I peered

in awe at how the fog transcended over the lake, giving it a mystical feel, to otherwise

generic Destitute Lakes.


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We pulled into the north side roundabout at school with no time to lose. I

drastically catapulted my way into school, just moments before the bell rang. The bell

notified all that those still left and put on the wayside in the hallways (corridors of chaos

and confusion) would thus result in the careful inspection of peering, jeering eyes as your

useless, nervous and otherwise embarrassed self entered your Prime Time room, careful

of your classmates' reaction at your sudden tardiness.

Sure enough, my enthusiasm detached as I entered Prime Time with a plastered

smile on my otherwise sound-asleep face. As I slouched in my chair, I soon entered a

zombie-like state, where I forgot my emotions in my backpack, and could only depend on

their arrival in Language Arts class - my favorite class of the day.

As Prime Time scooted by, I strolled on to Language Arts: Hour 1. I entered the

classroom, only to find Mrs. Daly standing in the middle of the room, dawning an

extraordinarily strange ensemble of cowboy-like attire: Green, alligator skin cowboy

boots, a purple leather cowboy hat (with matching gloves) and pink leather chaps - the

whole shebang, complete with a lariat just long enough to wring someone's neck if they

rebuked.

First, she started to read the book called Meanwhile. In the book, a boy got very

angry because his mom kept asking him to do simple tasks, yelling at him in the process.

He kept wishing himself away to other places, only to find out that he hated the settings

of the story. So, as a result, he kept writing, 'Meanwhile' on everything that he had found

in the setting.

"Today, class, we'll be writing about how Chuck Norris invented the lightbulb,"

Mrs. Daly implied.


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"But, but, Edison invented the lightbulb, can't we write about him?" I questioned.

"What are you talking about? Everyone knows that Edison was just a crock; a

puny-little no-good-dirty-rotten-history-book-placement-stealer that wasted his time

messing around with his phonograph of lies - it's all a setup," she replied. "And hear me

out, kid, never ever insult me in front of these little angels again, or I'll lasso you faster

then you can say, 'I'm not worthy.' Now, pipe down and listen up - you could learn

something for once in your ill-gotten life," she sneered.

I stood there shocked beyond human knowledge; never in my life has Mrs. Daly

ever said anything cruel or downright ridiculous. I kept my thoughts to myself. I knew for

sure that I'd find a way to evade this nasty world of lies and turmoil.

All of a sudden, my mind got pulled into a vortex of surrealism. History flashed through

my very eyes; thousands of years of mystery lay right before me. I tried to grasp the

reason as to why my life bore so much happenstance, yet I couldn't grasp it strong

enough.

I carefully peered through a sudden opening in the massive continuum of time and

walked through the illuminating lights of centuries; it frightened me beyond belief, but I

walked through the barrier and suspected that something just didnt seem right.

I soon reached what appeared to be a hallway. I strolled down the long corridor of

desperation that seemed endless and never-ending to the human eye. I just waited for

someone to jump out of one of the rooms and yell, 'Gotcha!' but I continued. All of the

doors had the same gold plating with iron knobs.


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I progressed to a door unlike the other doors. There stood a white, gold-plated

door with a sparkling, greedy golden knob. I slowly opened the door and scanned the

look and layout of what lay ahead - a staircase going upwards to yet another door.

"Is this some kind of trick?" I thought.

I made the same mistake as any other human being would make in any situation;

curiosity took the best of me and I just couldn't help myself - greed and engrossment

overtook my present sense of thought. I now regret this decision.

I carefully crept up the stairs, wary of what lie ahead. I discreetly opened the door

as if Death greeted me with a nod of approval on the other side as it lurked in the

shadows behind the door. The door opened and, to my surprise, I soon reached an open

area full of people screaming with terror. The floor that my very feet stood on seemed to

shift to and fro, leaning over to the right and over to the left, nearly throwing me off

balance and making me quite nauseous. A ship stood before my very eyes, but how did I

get here?

I arrived at the aft of the ship. Looking down over the white-capped water, I

noticed that the ship that I mistakenly went on kept getting lower and lower. It took me

awhile to put two and two together to come up with a conclusion that the ship had started

sinking. I straggled to the nearest person.

"Where are we? Why are we sinking?" I motioned to the first person that I could

find.

"Oh, my dear, don't make such a fuss. The Titanic was built to float on the great

Atlantic. I don't see what all of the commotion is about the ship hitting but a mere ice

cube. Blast!" An old lady replied, as she covered herself in her heavy jacket and


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repeatedly stepped back and forth to keep warm; "It is quite nippy out, though, perhaps

you can be a fine young lady and fetch me a cup of tea before I turn into an ice cube

myself. Now, run along, miss," she declared.

I could care less about fetching tea when, in but a few minutes, the ship would

call the rocky, cold-hearted bottom of the eerie Atlantic "home." I read the history books;

I knew the facts - I had to get off of this ship as fast as possible.

Suddenly, the ship started to moan and groan as the aft lifted off of the white-

capped water. Panic and chaos erupted with a sudden triumph of terror and agony. I

quickly grabbed on to the bars of the aft, as the legendary orchestra trio played on. The

feeling of shock hit me as I had wondered how I had gotten myself into this mess.

Sooner or later, we'd sink and there'd be nothing left, except for the lucky

survivors that would share their bittersweet moment with those back home. Those that

died in body with the ship would never be able to tell the story of their fateful first, and

last, voyage on the Titanic. It was such an awful predicament. I couldn't make up my

mind as to whether I should try to turn this tragedy into a miracle, or keep to the history

books. A battle of Morals vs. Destiny took place that night and I rode on the Destiny ship.

I knew that the decisions that I had made were morally wrong, but how would this

affect history to come? There'd be events that'd be altered; events that wouldn't even

happen if I did help those whose destiny was to be a part of the atrocious casualty list that

would soon splatter newspaper headlines everywhere.

I wept as I kept hold of a bar of the aft; lots of people suffered that night and I

could do nothing to help. I soon looked over at all of the fateful people that leaped off of

the ship. I had to get off of this ship soon, or I'd be one of the casualty counts, too.


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My heart kept ticking, my brain grew into a blob of nothingness, and my hands

shook with agony. My eyes gazed, wide open and filled with terror - never had I

experienced something so horrible or excruciating as I had experienced that night. Death

grinned at us with a dark, mad smile, as if we'd soon say goodbye to the only world that

we had grown fond of; the only world that we could call "home."

I held on to the bars as hard and as strongly as my grip could manage as if my life

depended on it. The ship groaned and leaped with great force as it shook like a wet dog. It

rose higher and higher - this was one theme park ride that I didn't want to ride.

My body grew numb as I wasn't dressed for the occasion. Higher, higher; the aft lifted up

out of the cold icy abyss as the ship gained velocity as it cleared for take-off with God as

the pilot.

"Fasten your seat belts, passengers, we're about to reach our destination - Death,"

we'd all hear over the loud speakers.

I really wanted off of this psychotic ride. It felt like some one-way ticket to

despair, and I WANTED OFF!

The night air shattered with the noise of the passengers crying out for those that

they had loved and lost. The ship soon snapped at the middle of the large vessel.

The ocean liner started to descend with great anticipation. The anxiety and cries of the

passengers whose fate would soon be met grew. With one large jolt, the ship shivered

like the passengers who left their coats in their rooms and their life jackets in their closets

- unused and unwanted. I banged my head on the bars as the large contraption lurched

forward in an attempt to meet its final resting place.


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With one large gulp, the deep blue sea swallowed the luxury liner as a whole,

leaving some of the passengers gasping for life as they, too, got swallowed by the force

of the "unsinkable ship."

That was the end of it. I couldn't think, move, or remember anything. I started

gasping for air as the ungrateful whirlpool regurgitated me, spitting me out like a

disgusted student that didn't like carrots in her salad. I swam around as terror and agony

struck the night air with force and clamor. I soon found an end table to hang onto for dear

life that had lost its legs in the forceful clash of Man vs. Nature.

I conjured up all of my strength to keep hold of this small end table that saved my

life. Since I could only hang onto this small table for dear life, I started reminiscing over

what had happened today - trying to piece it all together. I had a tough time conjuring up

my thoughts because of the huge bruise that I had gotten on my noggin from the sudden

catastrophe.

All of a sudden, I remembered something...that one book that Mrs. Daly was

reading today in her class. What was it called again? Umm.... Hmm.... Mean... Mean?

Meanwhile! Yes, Meanwhile! Maybe I could try to "meanwhile" myself out of this

situation...

To my astonishment, I found a small piece of the end table that had broken off

during the sinking. The table was just damp enough for someone to carve something out

of it. With sliver in hand, I carved the magical word on the table, hoping that something

would happen.

"M-E-A-N-W-H-I-L..." I mouthed to myself.


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Suddenly, a lifeboat came to my rescue. The darkness had been broken as my

eyes tried to get used to the flashlight that had appeared too quickly. I shaded my eyes for

protection.

"Come aboard, miss. You'll be safe and warm here," one of the rescuers reassured

me.

I crept up the side of the lifeboat. I thought that I might be saved from sudden

peril, until...

On the other side of the boat, a group of eight people all huddled together in the

seething cold water trying to keep themselves alive as they swam to the lifeboat. We told

them that we had run out of room on the boat - 50 passengers already grew accustomed to

the boat that had saved them, struggling to find extra room away from the survivors that

swayed in the cold water beneath them. They grew angry as they were denied their right

to live. They grabbed onto the sides of the boat and tried to tip it over with all of their

might. The greed and need to live possesses all.

We held on for dear life as our vessel kept shifting back and forth. Suddenly,

some of the crew members that used to be stationed on the Titanic - our "saviors" -

started to bash the survivors in the water on the head with the oars as they struggled to

stay alive. The rescuers continued their cruelty, shooing them away like lions attacking

their enemies on the prowl.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stole one of the oars from them and, with one large

swipe of the paddle, I jostled them overboard. Both of them careened in the water with a

huge splash. Little did I realize that they both had pistols. They grabbed onto the side of

the lifeboat and tried to reach for a limb to pull me into the excruciatingly cold water.


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meanwhile story 2

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