Chapter 1: Echo Dibrom and Company
The name is Dibrom—Echo Dibrom. I don’t know I just love the way James Bond says his name like that. I really do. I’m your average teenage boy living in my own inferno-like high school. Oh my god, let’s face it. You thought I was going to go into a long, drawn out teen angst saga. Didn’t you? Well, lucky you, you’re in for a hell of a treat. But I admit that would have been my lame story a year ago. Hello, no matter what people say, our age group isn’t just filled with the clique “drama queens and kings”!
Anyways, whether or not you want me to, I’m going to shove my story down your throats (or into your eyes more like it). So, you—yea you—don’t you dare put this book down. I mean it. Everyone needs to know that though they may have it pretty darn bad, someone out there has it a million times worse. Here’s some insane stuff that rocked my world last year—my damn junior year of high school:
My dad had landed some godforsaken job teaching in Wisconsin the month before all high schools were supposed to begin their treacherous cycle. Who in their right mind ever moves from New York City to Wisconsin anyways? He literally packed up the whole apartment—with my family still in it—and shoved it into a ridiculously large moving truck. I could have lived in that thing! I really could have. To tell you the truth, I didn’t really mind the move. As a seventeen-year-old reclusive nerd, I thought a change in location could do me nothing but good. Haha, yes, I bet you’ve formed a classic geek image in your narrow-minded head by now. When it comes down to it, I can be quite drop dead handsome—no joke intended. I’m just a bit of an introvert. You’ll see. They all do. Wow! I’m conceited and I have ADD. Brilliant! Where was I? Oh yea.
My mother and sixteen-year-old sister, Brittany, were a little too morbid about the move. Now, they were true drama queens. Being very popular people and all, they were ridiculously attached to our lifestyle in New York. I got so annoyed with both of them crying, “But…but… but…what about all our friends?” As I said, I could have cared less. I wasn’t really losing anyone. Actually, I was hoping to leave behind the current me in New York. Boy, oh boy, are people right when they say, “Be careful what you wish for.” Maybe those old proverbs people never believe in actually have some depth behind them. It’s just a thought. Both, my mom and sis were pouring their eyes out (or doing a heck of a job acting) as we boarded our flight to Wisconsin. That state morphed my life. It literally did. You’ll see. I promise.
As we grazed across the sky, I looked out of the tiny windowpane next to my seat and thought about my family. The thing about it was that everyone in it was so damn congenial and outspoken. Sometimes, I liked to pretend I was adopted. That helped me cope with the differences more. My sister, Brittany, was at the top of the food chain, while I was far below the bottom. The only reason I had never gotten beat up in New York was that all of my personal bullies had at one time or another dated my sis. She dumped guys (never vice versa) and they always wanted her back. So, in order to stay on her good side, they decided not to punch my gut, spleen, and etc. out of me. Thanks guys! You’re such gentlemen.
My mother was simply an older version of my sister. She was a traveling makeup saleswoman and most definitely knew how to talk the talk and walk the walk. Throughout the whole country, she had to know someone in some out-of-the-world nook and cranny. Her whole career was based on her personality. That really annoyed me at times. It really did. I mean wasn’t success supposed to be based on merit or something. Blah, who was I kidding. Success had always been nothing more than a popularity contest. Who’s left? Oh yea—my father. He was a real character I’ll tell you. He was a physics professor. You’d think he’d be at least a bit geekish, but no he had to be this amazing, funny guy that had all these surreal stories to tell. That’s my father—everyone’s favorite teacher. No matter how bad a situation was he was always able to take it in such a light manner. I doubt he ever had a panic attack. He had the power of laughter. I swear he did.
So, you’re probably wondering how I fit into this picture perfect family. The thing is, I didn’t. I had no friends, let alone girlfriends. I was far too shy for my own good. With such isolation lurking at my footsteps, I had nothing better to do than shove some knowledge into that thing called a brain. I became a compulsive reader, earned some good grades (damn reading does work), and thus, got labeled a nerd. There went any prospect of a social life. My family really tried though. They put me in some extremely embarrassing self-confidence class ran by some dude named Mr. Crucifier. OK, OK, that really wasn’t his last name, but it darn should have been. I completely failed that course and about three thousand dollars of my parent’s cash pool went down the drain.
That’s when they started freaking out. They felt I needed psychological help or something. I think my dad thought I was an emu. Before we moved he went into a whole story about how emus always ended up isolated due to their odd ways. What the hell was that supposed to mean anyways? I mean yes I had an inferiority complex, but I wasn’t a raving lunatic—or emu. They really pissed me off when they mentioned the psychoanalyst. They really did. I obviously refused and our house went into an emotional turmoil. The whole scene was quite unnecessary. My dad felt the best thing for me would be a move. He phoned a few friends and finally, as I said, landed a job near Pepin, Wisconsin at the University of Wisconsin-Stout. That’s why my perfect family and I moved to Pepin. I could have cared less. As far as I can remember, these were the thoughts racing through my head during the flight. Little had I known that fate was having some thoughts of its own.
I, too, will probably carry on reading. Just keep enjoying writing and good luck!
