My+Gift

My Gift Claire K.  1/2A I stormed away from my parents, and stomped as hard as I could up the stairs, so that my parents could hear the loud noise echo throughout the house. Even though, I knew, they didn’t care. They had already made up their minds. I screamed in anger! When I made my way through the tiny hallway of the suburban house on Maple Street, and finally reached my room, I flung the door open and let it hit the bookcase as hard as it could, I didn’t care if it was dented. They said I couldn’t handle my own dog, but I //knew//, with a fiery passion, that they were wrong. My room looked like it was stirred with a stick, as my mom would say. I had some serious chores to do. I saw the clock I was given as a baby, colorful and bright. I saw the bookcase with exquisite leather bound books that my Grandma had passed down to mom. My eye caught the suede purple chair in the corner of my room and I saw what looked like a perfect place for a dog to sleep. With the crevices so old and worn that the dog would slip right and fall asleep right away. I think, no, I know, that I am responsible enough to care for my own dog. Tomorrow is my birthday and my parents still refuse to believe that I can care for Tipper, a Yorkshire terrier, at the Pet Store on Main Street. “He is hypo-allergenic,” I told them. But they still refused to listen. They’re minds were set. Parents, I thought, they just don’t understand. I was too tired to continue this fight with myself, I thought. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe they will drive me right to the Pet Store and say “Go get the little fella, we’re bringing him home sweetie!” I finally fell asleep. I dreamt about tomorrow, my 10th birthday, “Finally double digits,” mom would say. In my dream, //I was in a castle where the smell was as if a million cream pies were being made in the kitchen with the scent wafting thought the magnificent marble-floored castle. I made my way up to the tower, where Tipper sat, looking out the window. I smiled without my muscle recognizing it, it just happened. I ran toward my new dog like he was the last piece of cake at a birthday party.// // He looked at me licked the air and stood up. I picked him up and mini sized nose started to sniff through my hair. Then, my parents walked and sat down and just watched me play with him. Until my mom finally said “Do you like him?” // // To which, I replied “DUH” // // She looked at dad and started to roll her eyes. // That is when I woke from my marvelous dream, rolled over onto my stomach and pulled my covers over my head, when I heard a small whimper come from the purple chair in the corner. I lifted the edge of my down comforter a little bit and peeked to see Tipper, sitting, as tall as a statue, ready for the day to start. I jumped out of bed with the velocity of an army jet lifting off. My parents walked into my room just then and said, “Happy Birthday, we picked him up this morning.” “I love him, thank you so much!” “He will be a lot of responsibility, and you are going to pick up after him,” Dad said. “I know, I know!” with an attitude, but my face was still smiling. “Let’s go eat some breakfast; I made you your favorite. Because you deserve it. I love you sweetie.” “I love you too, mom.” It was then we all moved into the kitchen to eat pancakes and bacon, with Tipper.