Iris's+Future+Earth+Story

//Treasure //
“Radius, it's time to get ready for the school” my mom shouts. I casually walk on my flyby mat to get to my bathroom. My cheapskate father bought me a horrible flyby. It's only made of pure sterling silver. I mean come on dad, you could at least spring for the 14 carat gold. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because mama says that we can go shopping. Hopefully, we can get more clothes because I only have 100,000 dresses. I finally get to the bathroom with my good for nothing flyby. I pop my toothbrush pill in my mouth. I can't decide what face I want today. It’s between Selena's face or Beyonce's. I go with Selena because I’m going for a younger look. By pressing my morning button, I’m dressed and my hair is styled. It’s so slow it takes about a second to do everything, but that won't be a problem for much longer because mama is going to get me the newer model. I'm also going to ask mama to download more faces for me to choose from. Maxxam has the Miley Cyrus face that I want. I call my flyby to take me downstairs.

My annoying grandmother is already downstairs. She is so embarrassing; she is the only old person on the block that doesn't use the young suit. Maxxam and Xandrell both had their grandmothers do it. My grandmother is so low tech. Just looking at her wrinkles make me want to gag. She tells me that in her day children actually played outside and that I should do the same. Why would I want to play in the dirty boring outside if I have a perfectly good moving talking tree house to hang out in? “You should go outside and play after school.” Is she trying to torture me?

I try to reason with her, “Gram, I’m way too tired today. My flyby isn't working right, so had to walk down the stairs.” I stretched the truth a little, but I can't risk going outside. I won't be able to handle it. Fresh air makes me nauseous. That’s why I buy artificially flavored air. I like the bubblegum flavor.

I motion to my dad to give me some back up, but all he says is “Hun, your grandma is going to be leaving tomorrow, come on. ”

“Fine,” I say.

“Oh, and honey did study for your science test?” my dad asked sternly.

“Yes,” I stammer. In my head I was praying for him not to take out the lie detector.

My mom came just in time. “Hunnybun, come on, it’s time to go to school,” she said in a cheerful tone. I hopped on the transporter with my mama. It took us longer than usual, a whole second. It was worth it because mother bought me a Starbucks drink to get some star water. I got the the sun flavor because it tastes really sweet. On a more sour note I’m at school. The only part I like about going to Sky High School is getting the suit. Since my school is in the sky, you put on a suit on levitate you up. The suit was originally drab, but I made it cute by adding personal touches, like a color dial. I get to change it any color in the world at any time. Today I change the color to dragon's eye The fiery color always makes me feel smarter, and I need it since I didn't study for my science test. Luckily, I got my head pierced in the mall that day. Now I have a slot in my head to put a computer chip inside. You can pop in music videos and all sorts of different kinds of computer chips. I knew I couldn't study for my science test; I know myself so well. I problem solved like dad always tells me to, and I just bought a chip on the subject of the test. Don't go spreading that around since I didn't actually tell my dad that I followed his advice.

At school, I finally walk in the building, but I am so nervous that I forgot to press my transparent button on my suit to let me walk through the doors. Gosh, I really am out of it. I remind myself that I have the chip and that relaxes me. Once I’m in the science, I sit in the test chair. Now it’s the time. The time when history is going to be made; ok not really it is only a test but hey everything counts. I put my brain examiner on my head, and it reads my brain. I am so glad I have the chip with me. I thought the test would be really hard. I can feel the test machine digging through my brain to find all the answers. Finally, it’s done, even with the chip five minutes with that thing attached to my head is too long and boring. The teachers are too hard on us. I’m flying to English class with my rocket boots. I am sitting in the ugly mini hovercrafts, and I am bored!! All were doing in this class is reading the moving word books. They’re so boring.

“Honey bun, it’s time to come home,” I hear my mom say. I climb in the transporter. I walk threw the doors of my house and see my grandma with a smile as big as a crescent moon, and I remember that I have to go outside. I thought that my grandma would forget, but then I remember that mom gave grandma those memory pills, oh man.

 “Radius, it’s time for you to go outside and get some fresh air. Oh and take that silly face off. Why would you want to have someone else’s face?”

“Can I at least bring my rocket boots?” I plead

“No, you need the full outdoor experience.” I walk out the door and sit on the damp, disgusting dirt. I’m ruining my new dress. I’m justing sitting here feeling sorry for myself when I see another person. She actually looks happy: is she crazy? She is waving at me. I walk over to her because then I’ll have someone to share my misery with. She is kind of odd looking and, eww, I just noticed that she had dirt on her face.

“Hi,’” she says.

“Hello,” I say shyly, which is weird for me because I’m usually really outgoing. I’m the second most popular person in my school. I have kept that spot for 14 years. Anyway, she’s holding this weird devise that she appears to be digging with. I ask her what it is, and she acts like I’m some weirdo or something. I mean come on, she’s the on one with dirt all over herself.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">She says, “A shovel, ya silly goose.” Then she hands me one. Like I’d be caught dead holding that grimey chavalg, I mean shovel. She starts digging, and I see goldish brown starting to appear. It looks to me like there’s some kind of chest from the olden days under there. It probably has some cool stuff in it, or at least that is what I see in the boring movies my grandmother shows me. I start digging with the shovel thing.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Ow, I have a have a hand cramp. The chest is almost to the surface. I’m fantasizing about all the pretty jewelry I'm going to be rocking after this. We both open the treasure chest and all there is in it is a thing with lots paper I put my information scanner on it and it said diary of Emma. It’s such a old name, Don't you think!?! What's a diary anyway? My eyes glance over to the scanner some more, and it says that a diary is something that children wrote in in the olden days. Who would want to do that? It screams boring. There’s also some other junk, a note and this metal thing that is in a weird shape. There is other stuff, too, but I don't know what the heck anything is. What is the other girl so excited about?

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Oh, my goodness look at all this cool antique stuff. It’s like our own personal museum,” she says in delight.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">What’s her deal? I was digging for no reason. I got hand cramps for no reason. I even held a shovel, and I got nothing in return. Gosh, what a drag.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “Do you want to go exploring?” that overly excited girl asks. Before I can even answer, she grabs my hands. The nerve of some people.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">She reads the note in the chest and it says: I buried all my most precious items in this chest so that someday someone will find it, my diary and my keys. Oh, that’s probably what the metal thing is and then the note goes on and on about herself. How self-centered can she get? And why would she put her stuff in a chest; it sounds pointless to me. Then the girl brings me to this disgusting iron door and the girl says, “I think this key will fit in the door.”

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Why couldn't she just walk threw the door?” I ask.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Because this is in the olden days when they didn't have any stupid technology”

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Technology is not stupid. It’s how I survive.”

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Let’s not fight,” said the know-it-all girl.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m done with her. First, she takes me to go dig for a chest that doesn't have anything that's useful in it, then she makes me walk to this stupid door. I’m about to leave, but then the girl apologises. Even though she didn't mean it, I have nothing better to do out here. Then the girl, wait I’m tired of calling her girl.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“What's your name?” I ask

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“My name is Samantha, but you can call me Sam,” she says.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Isn't Sam a boy’s name, whatever.”

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Sam takes the key and puts it in the keyhole. I don't know why but I’m actually excited. She opens the door and automatically I notice the carpet. It’s not like the moving carpets we have now, and it’s floral. It looks really old, but for some reason I like it. I look at a wooden table, and my eyes are immediately drawn to a painting. It’s like nothing I've ever seen before. There is no digital or 3-D objects on it. The textures, the colors, and the feeling of the painting are perfect. There’s a little girl in the painting. She can't be more then five and looks really happy. She’s just playing outside, no rocket boots or video games, only running in a field having fun. Over my shoulder I realize Sam is looking at the picture too.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“That’s really pretty. Oh, look at this magnifying glass,” Sam says. How can she look at the magnifying glass when there is a beautiful painting on the table. Beside the painting I notice that there are paints, a cup of water, paint brushes, and a white canvas similar to the one that the painting is on. My fingers are tingling to pick up the paint brush and dip it into the fiery orangish red to match the color of the sun. The feeling of painting is wonderful. The brush glides on the perfectly white canvas to make something beautiful. I wash my brush in the water, and I put my brush in a light cheerful green for grass and made sharp movements to capture the points of it. I wonder why people don't paint anymore. I can't believe I’m saying this, but Sam is kind of right about technology being stupid. Of course, some technology is useful, like the toothbrush pill, but why would I use rocket boots if I have a perfectly good fields to run in. My brush touches the canvas once more, until it is done. Sure all of the technology we have is great, but now I know that some things from the past should be carried through to the future, like books and paintings and even keys might be cool. I look at Sam fascinated with the magnifying glass, and I tell her “Thanks, this stuff is really cool. How about we do this tomorrow?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Sure, I found this cool hole in the ground that we can explore.” We parted to our houses. I grabbed my painting and presented it to my grandma proudly. “I haven't seen a painting in years. I remember my best painting. It was a painting of my little sister playing in a field having so much fun.” I loved painting and I’m glad that you do to. It can be something we can share together ”

“I would like that,” I say in delight. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Return to Middle School Homepage