The Life of Oken Mwitter: Chapter One

TMD and Scrib Present The Life of Oken Mwitter™

Chapter 1 Created By ©MLEGENDS HOME

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Dear readers, this is my diary.

But I am a casual guy, so don’t mistake me saying “dear readers”, or “this is my diary.”

I never say it so let me tell you what happened today…

My dad walked into the room with a big smile on his curved face.

“You are going to love this.” He smiles annoyingly.

“Ok?” I said gesturing to my mouth while I gulped down a slice of pizza.

“A journal!” He said now, smiling even more.

“I felt you were lonely after moving here.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I said, opening the cover trying to make him feel good.

And you will never believe what I saw.

Nothing! I had not even flipped over the page! After I did flip it over I saw…

Nothing. I flipped another page. Nothing.

My dad realized I was flipping the pages a lot scanning for words on the page.

“You look like you are looking for some words.” He tells me with that awful smile on his face.

“You write your own story. Write about your life. You always tell me how interesting your life is.”

“Fine,” I mumble, not in the usual angry tone, but a happy tone.

I walk towards our new television and pop on a documentary.

My little brother hops up to the couch after coming back from school and explains to me what a diary is. He’s been in the city longer than me, so he understands local traditions like having a journal or diary.

“So, that’s what a diary is. Dad says you should start writing in it.” My brother annoyingly tells me with my dad smiling yet again, in the background.

“I’ll start it tomorrow.” I sigh.

The day passes by quickly, and I finish my homework. I jump up on top of my soft warm mattress, with nice and cozy blankets, and look at the diary.

“I like milk. It’s dairy, so should I listen, and write in this dairy product?” I ask myself whispering.

My mom and dad enter the room and rub my hair. They leave the room and enter my little brother’s.

I hold my diary close. Now, it arrives tomorrow, (today when I’m writing in this) and I think about starting to write...

When I woke up to the crudest awakening of a pop star singing something called “Shark do do do do”

“What in the morning...” I groaned as I woke up.

My little brother screamed running around as my baby sister tried to dance to this terrible song.

“What are you guys doing?” I asked, groaning.

“We are dancing to the song,” My little brother said, annoyed by my curiosity.

“To that?” I say with discomfort.

“Yeah, it’s a song,” My brother said rolling his eyes, “Go and get your breakfast.”

So I did. I went into the kitchen to see my diary just sitting waiting to have some words

‘I should write something.’ I thought, taking a peek at it.

I pick up my diary and write,

“But I am a casual guy, so don’t mistake me saying “dear readers”, or “this is my diary.”

I start at the top.

It went by quickly, as ever when I finished writing. I looked up to see the time.

‘11:45! I started writing at… 10:50! I think.’ Thinking for a minute, I make an end at the awakening part and place my diary on the kitchen table.

My dad winks at me.

“Liking that new diary son?” “I see you spent an hour writing.” He winks again.

“Yes, yes. It’s as good as dairy.” I think to myself, ‘Do diary’s come from cows?’

“Okay?” My dad thinks as he listens to me.

My little brother comes down the stairs as my mom brings our newborn baby sister along with him.

“Tenny!” My dad shouts as he hugs my baby sister.

Deras, my brother, jumps to the dining table seat, ready for lunch.

“WHAT’S FOR LUNCH?” He shouts as he tries to get mom and dad’s attention.

My mom serves him lunch.

“Yay, it’s mac and cheese!” Deras exclaims.

“Why are these elbow-like carbohydrate tunnels covered with soupy cheese?” I said with pure disgust.

My brother slams his computer shut down on the table.

“How dare you…” He snarls.

“What is it, Deras?” My dad asks.

“Deras, be a good boy!” My mom shouts.

My mom and Deras had been living in the city for about a year and a half while my dad, and I were learning how to speak American English back in the village. Up until last year, we spoke only British English. But our names were adopted from our dad’s side of the family. We still learned his side of the family’s language, but I haven’t had the opportunity to learn how to write words from it. The language is particularly rare to find, and my dad is usually at his stressful job, so I never get the chance to learn how to write in it.

“Dad, why is Deras mean?” I say in our dad’s native language since Deras does not know it.

“He is just upset since we came here since we have been making his space smaller, Oken,” Dad replied in his native language.

We finished eating and moved on.

I started writing again,

I looked up at the clock

‘1:34’ I thought as I wrote and wrote and wrote…

I am not very good at handwriting but I know all the words I need to write.

I wrote about the last time I was writing and everything in between.

I looked up again after writing

‘3:23!’ I thought when I looked up after finishing writing and realized I had to go to something called a grocery market.

“Oken time to go!” Dad asked.

“I need to finish up my writing!” I said.

“Oken…” Dad warned with danger in his tone.

“Ok,” I grumbled.

We hopped into the car seats and arrived at the grocery market. I suddenly noticed what it was. It was no grocery market that my dad had told me about, it was…

Part Two of Chapter One

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It was huge and not a grocery market. It was a toy market because we were participating in a charity movement in our neighborhood, and with all the holidays this December, it was really busy.

“What are those?” I said pointing to a small rectangular green box.

“Honestly I don’t know, I thought toys were your thing,” said Dad in his native language.

“Wow!” I said as he saw toys of all kinds fill up right before his eyes.

“I am not going to give you all of this,” Dad said.

“Just one of them please,” I begged.

“Fine but, a small one” He heaved.

“How about this?” I say holding up a small box of... oh yeah building blocks.

“Fine Okra,” Dad said, telling me with my worst nickname EVER.

“Fifteen American dollars!” He said alarmingly, after picking the box up. “I was already spending up to 400 or the charity, and you want me to pay that much for a thirty piece set with one mini-figurine?!”

“How much is that?” I was confused at what that meant exactly.

“A lot” Dad replied, rolling his eyes ever-so-slightly, but you could still feel it in front of you.

“Awwwww” I whined as I put it back

“Ok, I will need to get a higher paying job,” Dad said, placating me.

“But when can you get this?” I asked

“With the job I can get you this in a week, the hard part is finding a job” Dad

We left the mega everything store and went home.

Dad decided to find a job so I can get it but, I have to wait for it. He always says that I have to earn something but, this time he says this is enough to earn it. This is it in his words

“Oken don’t worry you won’t have to do chores this time. I know it is tough moving here, so I thought I should give it to you for free. After I saw the price I realized you had not experienced the price of patience. Now you need to wait for it so when it comes it feels more fun.” Dad stated.

“Yes sir?” I said confused.

“Remember how we’re doing charity work? Well, we will get you something similar during Christmas. Look, boy.” “We will try to get you as much as you want, but all the fees and charity work might bring down how much the limit of our salary can hold up to all that we are buying. You are fourteen. So I hope you understand.”

I listen to him and put the brick-building set back up the shelf as my dad smiles at me. But it’s not annoying anymore. It reminds me that even in this chaotic time for us, he is persevering and trying to smile even in the darkest moments to give everybody around him hope. It’s like the shining light that stays shining even during the midnight.

We both go back home together and arrive where we were met with ANOTHER one of Deras’s tantrums.

He cried and shouted saying he wanted to go to school, but yet again, it was a weekend. Unfortunately for us.

“I want to go to school and claim my Cheese Eraser Prize!” He shouted so loud, that even the neighbors could hear his terrible yells.

My mom calms him down as my dad and I lay down on the bed, thinking of how life could be in the future.

“You should make some friends, Oken.” He whispers in my ear as I tug some blankets away from him.

“Do I really have to?” “This diary is enough,” I say, acting sad.

“You need friends. They are there to back you up during every situation and help you overcome hurdles.” He tells me feeling bad about my quick decision, which I gave no thought to.

I pretended to fall asleep and ended up sleeping. I saw my dad leave the room as I got drowsy.

Nobody would ever know what would happen the next day…

TO BE CONTINUED...