graham bell

i like going through a routine. i like going down seven levels of staircases to reach the ground floor so i can take bus 37 and ride to school. i like jotting down what happened in my life in my journal during breaks during school. something like, "i had no idea what mr tom was talking about during math" or "i think susan may is very pretty today". even though susan may always looks the same everyday in school. her blonde hair is always in a low ponytail with a grey scrunchie even though grey hair accessories aren't allowed in school. but she doesn't really care and i like her that way.

the boys in my class even my best friend evan thinks its weird that i write in a journal. but i don't care, i like myself that way.

one day when i'm waiting at the bus stop with evan (which is another routine) and even though we don't drop at the same stop, we still ride the bus together. he talks about my journal writing.

"bell, i think its funny that you write in a journal,"

"i like being funny,"

"but bell, its girly,"

"i like writing,"

and he knows i won't do anything about it so he shuts up.

but at home i sit on my bed and wonder whether writing in a journal is girly. is it?

during lunch break in school, i was eating a tuna sandwich. it's white bread with canned tuna and a lettuce leaf in the middle of it all. i eat it everyday. sometimes my dad makes me the ham version of the sandwich so instead of tuna its ham. i don't buy food from school, i always eat the sandwich in my green lunch box. evan eats something different everyday. today he is eating a container of grey spaghetti in his lunch box. it looks gross.

"what the heck is that," i asked. (heck is considered an obscene word already even though i heard my dad saying worser words than heck)

"its soba," he told me when he poked his fork on the grey noodles. they reminded me of octopus tentacles. i didn't want to ask more so i just ate my tuna sandwich.

susan may was eating a chocolate chip muffin with an apple juice packet. i want to eat with her one day.

i live with my dad and mum. but while everybody's dads are out working and their mums stay home, my mum goes out to work and my dad takes care of our house and my twin siblings. mummy is a head of some department while daddy can make a mean pasta sauce. i always help dad take care of andrew and melanie, they're both six and i am ten.

"graaaahaaaam," my dad calls out from the kitchen and i come running to him. my dad always pull the syllabuses of my name when he's in a very good mood. he always is.

he asks me to mix some muffin mix while he butters the tray. my dad can bake too.

i once asked why he wouldn't become a chef because if my dad became a chef he would be very good at being one. he told me it was a complicated job and he wouldn't have enough time for us anymore.

my brother and sister like to call me graham cracker. andrew would scream graham and melanie would yell cracker.

my name isn't pronounced as gram. it's pronounced as 'grey-uhm'.