Personal Perspective

So I have finally decided upon the personal perspective story I shall write.

There's the goal line, only a few feet away. I can see my grandfather taunting me on the other side. Hurry up boy! he calls. I'm coming I want to say but no sound escapes my throat. The air is thick and the colors vivid. I move slowly, my goal slowly receding. I have an opponent. He bursts forth from the earth beneath my feet. I go rolling, skidding across what was, seconds ago, green grass but is now sand. I am underwater, yet able to breathe. I am Spongebob? I commandeer a boat and drive toward someplace familiar and warm; distracted I flip through radio stations. The boat is slow. It seems I will never arrive at my destination. It seems I have sat in this car forever. An eternity. Somewhere my neck hurts.

I am lost so I forget. Where I am holds no bearing in my mind. There is music in the background. I watch a horse gallop next to our car, his muscles in his neck pulsing, legs pulling in beat with that music. There is a bench. He jumps it and transforms mid-flight into a swallow, wings flapping to that same beat. I sigh, turn my face from the window and those phantom animals dissipate into shadow and thought. Voices intrude. My parents? I vaguely wish the voices away. I glance at my slumbering brother and suffer a shadow of worry that they and the music will wake him but dismiss it. He will sleep on. I leave the car again. Lost once more. A forest. Demons. Epic battles. Love, perhaps...

Why is this screen so small? My fingers run over the key pad, a desperate attempt to remain connected to friends. To sanity. Little brothers offer little comfort. Older sisters are strange. Parents argue, grandparents dote. My friends are my salvation. What's that one face again? >.< ...no... >.@ Yes. That's the one. It effectively represents my feelings. Annoyed. Traveling is no fun. My legs are asleep and my head hurts from concentrating on this small screen. What?! :O What did she mean by that? Well if she's going to be like that then I just wont reply. "Eli, guess what Julia just txted me!" He'll be sympathetic. I miss him. Bobby snores. Momma and Daddy are playing some ridiculous game. I didn't want to leave this weekend. Why hasn't he responded?! The music isn't even all that great.