Boring Old Me

A small raccoon wanders out from behind a garbage can. I appear to be in some type of city, but because everything is so dirty it’s hard to tell. I watch as the raccoon climbs on to the garbage can, and from there on to the porch railing of a building nearby. Then he jumps up on to the windowsill, jumping from place to place until he finally reaches the roof. Then I spot another raccoon start to follow in his footsteps, but he only climbs up to the porch railing before he falls down. He doesn’t seem to be very hurt and just scurries away. Suddenly I see the raccoon on the roof lose his balance. He falls, his pitiful shrieks echoing around the dark alley before I hear the sickening thud that ends his life.

I gasp and roll out of bed. What a vivid dream! I rarely ever remember my dreams, and when I do they’re always foggy and unclear. But this dream- I could remember every detail! I still had more questions aside from the unbelievable clarity- like where was that city? I’ve never seen it before in my life.

I believe dreams are supposed to mean something. Mine probably do, just that I’m not smart enough to figure out what. It wouldn’t matter anyway if by some miracle I do figure out what it’s trying to say about my future. I‘m never smart enough, good enough, fast enough… anything I do is out-shadowed by my sister’s achievements. I’m… average. Brittney is, well, Brittney is brilliant. A perfect angel, with such perfect manners. I could learn a thing or two from her.

“Lindsey! I’m making breakfast now! Come down now if you get hungry!”

Oh, speak of the devil. It’s Brittney. Of course she’s making breakfast! She always has to be on Mom’s good side. I’d tried making dinner once, when Mom was sick, but I’d forgotten about it on the stove and nearly burnt the house down. Brittney had to call the fire department, and I still remember the cold-eyed stare Mom gave me while she said, “Do you have to ruin everything? Sometimes I wish you could be more like Brittney.” That really stung, especially when everyone hugged her and told her what a hero she had been.

Do I wish I could be Brittney? No. I just wish everyone would appreciate me for who I am, not who I’m not.

I come down the stairs to the smell of scrambled eggs. I love scrambled eggs! Brittney sees me and smiles. “Morning, Lindsey! About time you came downstairs! Want some eggs?” I nod. Now I’m feeling really guilty about what I was thinking about her. She really is a good older sister; it’s not her fault I’m just plain average.

“Where’s mom?" I ask, munching on my eggs. "I want to know if she can drive me downtown to look for shoes,”

 It was the first thing I had said all morning, and I immediately wish I could take it back and say good morning. That’s why everyone hates me, I think bitterly. I never even bother to say good morning.

No one answers my question. I look around and notice that my sister has left the room. Probably she went to hang out with her friends. The word friend sends a pang of sadness throughout my body. I don’t have any friends. I used to, a long time ago. Annie had been my best friend when I was eight years old, until one day when I came over to play Annie told me, “I don’t want to be your friend anymore. You’re always angry at something,”