The Time Jumper Hannah Witowski- 8th grade
The sweet scent of freshly cut grass filtered through my open window as I changed out of my pajamas and into my comfy blue shorts and orange tank top. I had grown up thinking of summer as a season, overflowing with endless joy and freedom, an enchanting place where time stood still and life was filled with bare feet holidays and speeding ice cream trucks. Quick afternoon storms would light up the sky, the choice to either grab your towel or dash in another direction constantly spinning in that laid-back, summer mindset of yours. Yet, this summer seemed to lose its distinctive glow. The thought of a promising future ahead completely disappearing from my mind, similar to those kindergarten memories that had once been thoroughly remembered. I couldn’ t help to hope that this summer would be my best, mainly because this was my last summer of absolute peace. I would be entering high school in the upcoming school year, making this season the most important by far.
Today was the first Tuesday of summer, giving me plenty of time to plan an exciting, yet productive, break from the standard school routine. The only possible way that I would be able to fully enjoy myself was to attend my favorite singer’ s concert. He had been going on tour and, specifically this summer, he would be visiting my hometown for a couple live performances. I had been putting money aside for some time now, in my sparkly pink piggy bank, and was only fifty dollars short of purchasing my very own ticket. After exploring different ways to budget and earn an income, I had decided that walking dogs, in my neighborhood, to the local park, was the best option. I ran my hand through my tangled hair and knew that it would be needing way more work than just a brush. That said, I didn’ t have time to fix it because I was already running behind. I threw my hair up in a messy ponytail, slicking back the stray baby hairs that towered over the others, which were already pulled back.
For my schedule today, I had planned to walk my neighbors dog who lived across the street. She was a sweet woman, an elderly lady with a kind heart and gentle soul. She was a customer that I didn’ t have to stress over. Mrs. Norman had been known for handing out the large candy bars on Halloween, decorating her house in the finest decorations for Christmas, and, despite her age, still seemed to express a youthful energy that never failed to brighten someone’ s day. With the last finishing touches of sunscreen, sandals, and sunglasses, I was ready to leave the house.“ Mom, I’ m heading to Mrs. Norman’ s now!” I called from my room.“ Alright Zoey! Be safe and have fun!” I heard my mother call back from the kitchen.
Before I knew it, I was standing outside my house, the warm sun glistening onto my face and highlighting the many freckles that covered my arms and legs. As I looked around, suspension clouded my thoughts, like as if a morning fog had shielded my eyes, blurring the reality between truth and fear. There were no cars in sight for a usually busy morning, the sustaining silence forming goosebumps along my back. The eerie sound of stillness spread across the street, hushing the birds, bright blossoms, and bullfrogs to its typical greeting embrace. I walked down the driveway, the black pavement reflecting my sweaty self who had, just until now, not been used to the summer warmth. I looked up, scanning both sides of the road for any vehicles driving by. The coast was clear. I took my first step forward, the temperature creating the impression that my sneakers had sunken its way through the paved path. I tried to pull my foot up, attempting to continue across the road, but it was glued down.