Guinevere Monologue

Guinevere (Guin)
Mile after mile my old life is whizzing past just out of my grasp. As Gail Sheehy had said, “If we don’t change we don’t grow. If we don’t grow we aren’t really living.” Right now I really don’t want to grow, well actually I do want to grow because I’m only 4’8 and I want to grow really tall, but that’s not the point. The point is I miss my friends and I’m nervous that 7th grade might be difficult not meaning the assignments will be hard but the experience I mean I’m only 10. Literally I can count my age on my fingers! But, I was reading Shakespeare at 5 and was able to speak 9 different languages at 7. Still I played with the same LEGOs as every other kid (except I build scale models of famous monuments). I still learned how to ride a bike the same way as most kids (shortly after I built my own bike). I just wish I was treated normally, literally most people treat

me the same way they would E . T but I didn’t really mind because my best friends Hailey and Robbie always had my back and as long as they were with me I didn’t care what anyone thought of me. ‘Cause
E .

T or not I’m still getting straight A’s! Now it’s a new ballpark and I’m that horrible player that’s always on the bench getting ready to bat because I’m moving to which comes with it’s own problems namely, not knowing a single person which doesn’t help the fact that I’m skipping 2 years ahead. Sometimes I feel like I’m moving too fast, my knowledge and my speech but maybe that’s a good thing or maybe not. I think about this as I reach the driveway of the new place I’ll have to call home. I sigh as I make my way up to my new room. Instantly I gaze upon the greatest lab/inventors workshop EVER! My jaw drops, I think I’m drooling. I literally have to use my hand to close my mouth as a think of why this is here. I think up multiple solutions but am distracted by the pure awesomeness that radiates from the lab. I rush downstairs to ask why it’s here when a reason pops into my brain as quick and instant as a bubble might pop. The answer quickly deflates my mood. Maybe my dad put this here to help with his work then I probably won't get to use it. Even still I make my way towards my

dad.
“ DAAAAAAAAAAAAAD DAD where are you,” I bellow. Unknowingly I barrel into an oddly shaped mass. As I get up I notice that the peculiar object I barreled into was actually my dad carrying an armload of boxes. Sometimes I can’t believe that my intellectual but, gaunt father could carry really heavy things and not break so much as a sweat.