Week One - First Sentence Story

Week One – Journal/ Free-Write Entry 1


I could tell the minute I got in the door and dropped my bag, I wasn't staying. For one thing, the place looked almost uninhabitable. As I looked around the room, it gave me the creeps to see their faces looking so glazed over, almost like zombies. How did I let my brother convince me to come back down here to Texas for the Labor Day weekend? I have no idea. I resented him already.

“What's up, dude?” said one of my brother's stoner friends, barely lifting his head off his chest.

“Hey,” I said. “Where's George?” There were at least seven people in what could be called a living room. My brother, Georgio, had just gotten an apartment with his girlfriend Nancy and from the looks of the place, they had an “open door” policy. Guys were slouched across the couch and splayed out on the floor, all heads turned towards the small color television, which was sitting on what looked like a nightstand.

“Yo, dude,” said zombie #1, “he's making a beer run. Paco over there just popped the last tab. Asshole.”

“Fuck you,” said a lanky looking Mexican kid, who couldn't have been more than 19. He turned and looked at his accuser, and belched loudly.

Nice. This is definitely not going to be where I'll be staying this weekend. I could smell the faint scent of marijuana in the air, and it confirmed my suspicion that these guys were fried.

I shifted around uncomfortably, still standing right inside the front door. I was the older brother who had moved across the country to be adventurous, but I didn't feel very adventurous right then. I just wanted to get the hell outta there. Not that I didn't occasionally smoke a joint or two, but I didn't like the crowd my brother hung out with. His friends ranged from his geeky Mexican friend to his thug-like Black friend, Pooky. Most of these kids I remembered from growing up in the apartment complex where my mom still lived.

Some of them hadn't amounted to much, which was no surprise. But I wanted something different for my brother. Which was one of reasons why I agreed to come hang out with him for the holiday weekend. I wanted to try to be a positive influence, but I could tell this was going to be challenging.

“So, where's Nancy?” I asked, finally leaning against the wall and crossing my arms.

Damon, who was my mom's best friend's oldest son, turned to look at me and finally noticed my presence. “Yo! Wassup, Dee?” he said, grinning.

“Hey, Damon,” I said, shaking my head. “Dude. Did you just notice I was standing here?”

“Man, you know Judge Judy don't play,” he said. “I can't miss a word!”