Thanks Jabb. I critiqued your story as well. We're even. 
"Get up Tom!' Screeched my grandmother, the smell of her smoldering cigarette burning my nostrils.
"Sure grandma." To be honest, I had been awake now for nearly thirty minutes. She does this every morning. Does she really think I could even snooze while the alarm clock she bought for me blares "O' Canada". I have really grown to hate that song. And why did she buy me a Canadian alarm clock? I'm AMERICAN!
"Well, if you don't get dressed now you wont make it to work on time." I have a very interesting predicament here. I was born in California, moved to Arizona, lived in Kentucky for awhile( all in he first five years of my life) and finally headed up to Alaska. I lived there with my parents until I was 15. And then, one really cold September day, they vanished. The police investigated it, but all they could find was a parka, a dried herring, and a scrap of paper talking about a new gameshow called "Wheel of Walrus". They never found them. So that's how I ended up here, living with my grandparents in the god forsaken town of Caliburogh in the god forsaken country of Canada at the age of twenty one.
I slip on my pants and head out the door. I slowly walk down my grandparents green shag stairs and waltz into the livingroom. My grandpa is sitting in a recliner, watching the news. Well, I guess you could call it "watching the news". It's more like taking a news-snooze My grandma's knitting some piece of crap for some person in the hospital. She doesn't really feel sorry for them. It's more of an attempt to draw attention to herself than anything. "I'll take the Lexus today grandma." I quickly yell, hoping to catch her off guard.
"Not in your life you bastard." My grandma mumbles. I really hate that women. "You'll take the van like you always do. That Lexus is mine."
I groan loudly. I hate that thing more than I hate my grandma. It is older than old, has more rust spots on it than it does paint, rattles and squeaks like a mouse caught in a trap and smelles of wet dog.
"Do I-"
"Yes." I grab my little dinky uniform hat and the keys and head out to the Crap-on-wheels van. "And make sure your little friend doesn't spill his chips all over the floor." She was refering to the fellow employee of the Caliburogh Movie Theater, Be-Bop that I pick up everyday.. No one has any clue what his real name is, or if that is his real name.
"I won't." Be-Bop's house was a good distance away from the the theater. I sound probably get going.
Hey, Mad! Let's see what I have here...
"Get up Tom!' Screeched my grandmother, the smell of her smoldering cigarette burning my nostrils.
"Sure grandma." To be honest, I had been awake now for nearly thirty minutes. She does this every morning.
I lived there with my parents until I was 15. And then, one really cold September day, they vanished.
They never found them. So that's how I ended up here, living with my grandparents in the god forsaken town of Caliburogh in the god forsaken country of Canada at the age of twenty one.
It's more like taking a news-snooze. My grandma's knitting some piece of crap for some person in the hospital.
"I'll take the Lexus today, grandma."
"Not in your life you bastard." My grandma mumbles. I really hate that [s]women[/s] woman.
Anyway, the period after 'bastard' should be a comma and the next word 'my' should be lowercased....rattles and squeaks like a mouse caught in a trap, and [s]smelles[/s] smells of wet dog.
These are honestly my favorite. 
This whole sentence is written wonderfully. ^_^ Bravo!"Do I-"
I grab my little dinky uniform hat and the keys, and head out to the Crap-on-wheels van.
She was referring to the fellow employee of the Caliburogh Movie Theater, Be-Bop, that I pick up everyday
I [s]sound[/s] should probably get going.
I have really grown to hate that song. And why did she buy me a Canadian alarm clock? I'm AMERICAN!
lol made me laugh. Great emotion behind it all.
The problem is, I have no idea how old your character is. He seems to have the mindset of a fifteen-year-old, but he drives and obviously has work, so I'm guessing around seventeen. So I'm slightly confused.
This has a great begining to it, no info dumps or anything. It's hard to get a good beginging that doesn't shove info down your throat. Good description; I like the description of the van the best. 
lol!
Lol... Okay, that was kind of weird.
It did intrigue me, I have to say. If not for it's sheer obscurity and total unpredictability, it intrigued me.
Now that I've been nice, I have to point out stuff that I didn't like. 
First, you need to work on your punctuation/grammar. Only one person is allowed to speak in a paragraph and you generally move onto a new paragraph after anyone is finished speaking.
One paragraph = one subject.
Paragraph spacing/organizing is hard to do but you'll catch on with experience.
It should look like this:
"Not in your life you bastard." My grandma mumbles. I really hate that women. "You'll take the van like you always do."
I groan. I hate that thing. It was older than old, had more rust spots on it than it did paint, rattled and squeaked like a mouse caught in a trap and smelled of wet dog.
I have a very interesting predicament here. I was born in California, moved to Arizona, lived in Kentucky for awhile( all in he first five years of my life) and finally headed up to Alaska. I lived there with my parents until I was 15. And then, one really cold September day, they vanished. The police investigated it, but all they could find was a parka, a dried herring, and a scrap of paper talking about a new gameshow called "Wheel of Walrus". They never found them. So that's how I ended up here, living with my grandparents in the god forsaken town of Caliburogh in the god forsaken country of Canada at the age of twenty one.
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