Under The Couch

• Harrison Tomkins, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2011

The random stuff you find under the couch, I swear to God will kill me one day.
As I wiped my face with Dettol to stop contracting infectious diseases from my new cat scratches and abrasions, I heard my teacher call out to me from outside the door. Something about an essay and what-not, I’m sure I’ll get yelled at about it later. My open wounds stung as I as I rubbed a mild antiseptic on it, but I kept my mouth shut tight. As I walked out of that haven of safety where the school nurse resides, books in hand, a figure bumped into me at a million miles an hour, knocking herself and I over. My books scattered the surrounding area like autumn leaves on a windy day. As I got to my feet to get a look at the culprit who had knocked me over, before my jaw dropped to the ground like an anchor off the Eureka sky deck. The culprit who stood in front of me, was drop-dead gorgeous, with a touch of amazingness. She had an erotically curved figure; her stonewashed jeans encased it perfectly. Her deep, dark brown eyes complimented her completely natural complexion well. Her pale skin glowed, but in a way that made her eyes pop and the boy’s jaws drop. She fluttered her eyes and laughed at me in a cute, high pitched giggle. The area of my stomach vacated, to make room for the millions of butterflies filling my sweet centre.
This girl was absolutely perfect.