I slumped down on my bed, grumbling, and cursing at the rain. It was as loud as buckets of pebbles falling on the roof out of the sky. I decided to try and ignore it by reading. I rolled off my bed again to take a look at the pile of books I was in the middle of reading.
Twilight, no. Maybe Assassin... I couldn't decide. Then, at the bottom of the pile, I saw what I wanted to read. Pride and Prejudice. With a smile, I pulled it out of the bottom and stretched out on my bed again.
I had been reading for about 15 minutes when there was a bright flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder. I jumped and dropped the book over the side of the bed. It landed with its spine up, saving my page.
Before I could pick the book up, I heard a muffled "ouch!" from somewhere. I couldn't figure out where it was from, though. Leaving the book on the floor, I went to open my door and called out, to see if anyone was around. I just heard a meow from my cat.
Then, again I heard someone in a muffled voice say, "You idiot. Stop looking around out the door and pick me up!"
I turned around in amazement and automatically picked up the book. "How can you be talking?" I asked it.
"How can you?" it asked as a response, in a stubborn and slightly belligerent voice.
"Fair enough. But I have organs, blood, a brain. I have vocal cords. What do you have? You're just words, paper, and ink." I was very surprised at how calm I was.
"Hasn't it been said a hundred times, a thousand times, that all it takes are words to brings something to life?" the book asked me.
Instead of answering the book's questions, I asked one myself. "Am I ever going to get anything besides a bunch of philosophical questions out of you?"
"Probably not."
"Then what use is this conversation?" I questioned the book.
"Plenty of people have quite a good time out of having philosophical conversations without answers."
"Yeah, well good for them," I muttered, annoyed. "I don't mind that stuff, but I'd rather be reading my book instead of having a long, answerless conversation with it."
"Fine. If you want to continue reading me, be my guest. I have one condition, though."
"Sure," I said, eager to do anything that would let me continue reading my book.
"Don't put me at the bottom of a book pile again. Please."
"Sure thing."
"Thanks," sighed the book, relieved.
I stretched back out on my bed and continued reading as if nothing had happened. Which, to everyone else in the world, it hadn't.
Sorry, not the best...
Cheerio, peeps!